What Matters
by ChristianGateFan
Summary: A demon. An altered timeline. Disasterous results that only Buffy can prevent. But will she realize what's happened in time, or will her Watcher pay the price? Much hurt/comfort. Character death, possibly not permanent; gotta read it. :P Tissue warning.
1. Chapter 1

Now that's summer is here I should have time enough to work on two stories, so here it is. The beginning of the new one. The one where I must confess that I'm way too fond of Nicholas Sparks, lol. :P Don't, however, be fooled into thinking this is only straightforward. This _is_ a Buffy fanfic after all. ;) So anyway...well, if you like this beginning and are interested at all, please let me know what you think. Can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thanks so much. :)

What Matters

**Chpt 1**

January 2000

Buffy Summers really didn't want to go be going where she was going, but she had to get there first to unlock the door for her friends. She was the one with the key, and it was her responsibility to make sure no one was left standing out in the January chill for too long. It would be another long, painful afternoon of sorting and packing and not knowing whether they should talk to each other or stay quiet or if there was something in particular they should be doing, or saying...

Today was her birthday. She was turning nineteen, and she wasn't happy at all. The fact that she officially had a boyfriend now didn't seem to help much. She had to wonder in the fact that Riley still seemed to want to be around her at all. Her life had sometimes seemed like nothing but a black hole of despair since even before he met her. Like the rest of her friends she had tried to go on, live life, be the Buffy she'd always been...but it was hard. Eventually he'd seen through it, and he still cared. He was still there for her.

He wasn't here right now. He had papers to grade that he hadn't finished yesterday, and it was early anyway. But that was all right. She would be fine. She had to be fine, because there really wasn't much choice. She couldn't change anything.

She made it to the apartment and got the key in the lock, but something didn't feel right. Buffy paused, listening, and heard something in the shrubs near the door. She backed away from the it, ready for a fight if she needed to be.

"Get out of there now. I know you're here." Whoever or whatever it was, anyway. There was a bit more rustling. "_Now!_"

And a sheepish-looking Ethan Rayne stepped out and raised his eyebrow at her. "Well. Slayer. Fancy meeting you here."

She was not in the mood for this. Buffy glared vehemently at him. "What the hell are you doing here, Ethan?"

"Oh, you know me—just doing a bit of snooping around."

"I do know you, and knowing you you're only doing the snooping to lead up to some sort of cracked scheme. I suggest you forget whatever you had planned and get out of my town right now. I will not ask again."

"And what are you going to do?" he retorted. "I'm human; you can't kill me."

She snorted. "No, but my current boyfriend is military. I could always have you arrested." Ethan didn't seem to have a response to that. "Get out of here."

"Well seeing as the element of surprise is ruined..." He glanced back in the direction of one of the apartment's windows. "I must say though, I would love to know the reason for the ridiculous amount of boxes. Is good old Ripper finally leaving the Hellmouth?"

Buffy's jaw clenched, and her answer came out quieter than she'd wanted it to—in front of Ethan, anyway. "He's not going anywhere. He's already gone."

* * *

May 1999 (Eight Months Earlier)

It was strange, walking past the burnt-out shell of Sunnydale High School when it had stood proudly only a week and a half ago. Buffy wished she could avoid it, but patrol took her anywhere there might be vampires to slay, and the site of the hellmouth was a mandatory area to check. She made a quick sweep and headed back through downtown Sunnydale to get a refreshing taste of civilization before hitting the cemeteries on the other side of town.

She passed the magic shop, and the hardware store, and the Expresso Pump...and all seemed normal. Calm. The night was young enough that the coffee shop was full, but not overflowing, and nothing much looked to be happening. She saw nothing suspicious that might suggest a vampire, and nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for Giles sitting at one of the open-air tables.

Buffy stopped in the street and blinked, not certain if she was seeing correctly. No, it was Giles, and all casual in one of those sweaters she wasn't quite used to no less. He was doing a lot of staring into space, too. He didn't even have a book, which was almost more unusual for him than where he was. Under normal circumstances he would have relaxed at home or in the library, she supposed, but now the library was gone...

Huh.

She strolled over to the coffee shop and took the one step up into its domain before crossing to Giles's table. "You know, I always thought patrol was fun. You run into the most interesting people."

Giles started and looked up quickly, and winced, and he would have spilled whatever he was drinking if the cup hadn't had a lid on it. "Buffy! Honestly, must you do that?"

"What, scare the crap out of you?" His mild glare was her answer. She shrugged and dropped into the chair opposite him. "Sorry; it's my job. Besides, shouldn't you be all attuned to your surroundings or whatever? You're the one who's supposed to be training _me_, remember?"

He frowned a little and stared down at his cup. "Or I was until January, anyhow."

"Come on, Giles. The Council's crap means nothing to me. You _know _you'll always be my Watcher."

He smiled a bit before taking a sip of his coffee or tea or whatever he had. "Is uhm, there a particular reason you're here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. I'm halfway done with patrol; I was passing through. Now it's my turn to ask what _you're_ doing here."

"I do have free time, Buffy, and what I do with it is my own business." He frowned again. "Though it seems I have much _more_ free time now."

Buffy grimaced. "Yeah. Wow, you don't have a job at all anymore, do you? Officially."

"Thank you for the reminder," he answered tiredly.

"Sorry, I just...I mean, are you gonna be okay?"

"I believe I have sufficient funds to be all right for long enough. You needn't worry."

"Okay...good. 'Cause I care, you know."

She had plenty enough time to worry about everyone else now, anyway. Angel was gone. Off to wherever he thought was far enough away. Now she didn't have their future to imagine, and she didn't really want to think much about him at all. It hurt too much. So she directed her attentions anywhere else to keep herself sane. That was what the last week or so had felt like, anyway.

Watcher and Slayer sat in comfortable silence for a minute or two, and Buffy studied him. There was the being here by himself, and the staring off at nothing he'd been doing until she came over here...and it wasn't that he never just sat and thought, because he did that often enough, but something seemed off tonight. She couldn't put a finger on why, but she wasn't sure he was okay.

"So you wanna keep me company for the rest of patrol tonight?" She decided she couldn't just leave him here.

Giles's eyebrows went up, and his cup paused halfway to his mouth. "Hmm?"

"I _said,_ do you want to come with?"

"Oh. Well..."

He was a little surprised, and she supposed he had a right to be. He'd been out on patrol with her often enough before, but always at his discretion and because it had something or other to do with training or one looming danger or the next. She'd never simply asked him to come.

Well, she'd been alone all week. She was tired of being alone. Angel was gone and Cordelia had already run off to L.A. to seek fame and fortune, Xander was getting ready to head off on his road trip, and since graduation day Willow and Oz had been spending much more time with each other than with anyone else. Though she supposed she understood that.

Buffy waited patiently for an answer, and finally Giles shrugged and stood. "I don't suppose I have much better to do at the moment."

"Great," she smiled, standing with him and following him from the Expresso Pump. "Hey, is your car here?"

"It is. Though I don't suppose your asking me to accompany you has anything at all to do with procuring a faster way of getting around for the night."

"Of course not," she responded in mock horror. "Giles, how could you ever think that of me?" He laughed, and Buffy realized it had been a while she'd seen him do it. Getting fired from the Watchers' Council hadn't been sitting very well with him, and the presence of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce until recently hadn't helped either. Maybe whatever was going on with him now was just residual from all of that, or maybe there was something else on his mind, but with any luck there would be some action before patrol was over and it would do him some good.

They made it to the nearest cemetery and Buffy climbed out first. "All I've got is an extra stake, if you want that..."

Giles pulled something from the back seat before he got out of the car. "No, thank you. That's quite all right." He stood up with a crossbow, and she stared at him.

"You keep a crossbow in the back seat?"

"It's better to be prepared."

She had to remember this was Giles. "Uh huh." She started off without another word, and Giles wasn't far behind. They spent the next hour or so mostly in amiable silence, tracking from cemetery to cemetery, and Buffy didn't dust a single vampire the entire time. The _one_ that showed up was skewered by a bolt from Giles's crossbow before she could get close enough. Part of her was a little annoyed that her fun had been spoiled, but the fact that he'd gotten one seemed to cheer Giles up some, so she couldn't hold a grudge.

"Nice shot."

"Thank you," he smiled triumphantly.

They had two cemeteries to go, two small ones just across the street from each other on the edge of town, and it didn't look like they were really going to find anything here, either.

Buffy sighed. "You know, I would have thought that all the vampires working with the Mayor would be, like, out for our heads by now, since we offed him, but it looks like they all just skipped town instead."

"Not all of them."

She spun at the voice, and saw the vampire stepping from the bushed behind her Watcher. "Giles, down!" He ducked out of the way and she launched herself through the space he'd been in just a moment ago. She almost got the stake in clean, but the vamp moved just soon enough to start a fight rather than be dusted already.

Then there were two more them. _Crap..._

She heard Giles's crossbow go off, and she heard a vamp dusting. She wondered why he was shooting from the ground, but she didn't have time to glance at him long enough to figure it out. She assumed the ducking had gotten him off balance and he just wasn't up yet. She was locked in a grappling session with the first one and only saw Giles from the corner of her eye. It only took a minute more to stake the vampire she was dealing with, but by the time she twisted to look him things really weren't going so well.

It looked like he'd only just now made it back to his feet, but now the third vampire had him back against a small mausoleum with no room to shoot. She lurched forward toward them, fully intending to stake the vamp through the back and dust him where he stood before he could lay a hand on her Watcher, but rough hands grabbed her arms from behind and she realized there were more than three adversaries.

She hadn't been sure if these vampires had been allied with Trick and the Mayor, but she was sure when the one that had Giles between a rock and a hard place decked him instead of going for the kill. They didn't just want them dead; they wanted to play.

"Giles!"

But the hands that had grabbed her flung her around at the same time, and a second later she couldn't see him anymore. She heard him shout—god, more than once—but she had two more vampires to worry about. It took a moment or two to turn them both to dust and then she spun back to the mausoleum and the vampire that was displaying extremely dishonorable battle tactics in kicking her Watcher while he was down.

Not that she would have expected anything honorable from a vampire that wasn't Angel.

Angel...

No! Vampire. Dust the vampire. In a second it was done, and she dropped to her knees at her Watcher's side. He was curled on his side, arms wrapped around his midsection, and...and god, was he having trouble breathing?

"Giles! Giles?" She clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Giles, can you hear me?" He looked at her blearily and she swallowed. "Hey, can you breathe? How bad is it?" He didn't seem able to answer. He was too busy catching his breath—and for some reason that seemed to be hurting him. "_Giles!_" Finally he calmed down and seemed able to breathe all right, but he still didn't look all right at all. His face was set in a permanent grimace.

"I'm—fine..." he managed after a moment.

Buffy scowled worriedly. "No you're not. God, Giles, what the _hell_? He hit you once and you went down like a ton of bricks and stayed down. If you weren't feeling so great today or whatever you should have just said something."

"I'll be fine," he reiterated, pushing up on an elbow. The other arm stayed around his stomach, and she didn't doubt there would be some pretty good bruises there in the morning.

She let out a breath. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he said shortly. He sat up slowly, leaning against the mausoleum wall behind him and still wincing the whole way. It looked like maybe he was trying not to, but he obviously wasn't having much luck.

Buffy looked at him for a moment, and she knew patrol was over. "Well, we were pretty much done anyway," she said aloud. "Come on, let's get you home." He didn't argue that point, which was very anti-Giles. It didn't help the trying-not-to-be-too-worried.

She tried to help him up, and she tried to do it slowly and carefully, but they only got halfway up before Giles barked out a shout of pain and she had no choice but to lower him back to the ground. He eyes clenched shut and he moaned quietly, and she stared at him wide-eyed.

"Giles, come on, I know I'm not the poster child for the normal human being, but I know that is _not _normal oh-I'll-be-sore-for-a-week-or-two kind of hurt. What's _wrong_? Do you think maybe he cracked a rib or something?"

"No...or, perhaps," he added quickly.

But she'd known him long enough to know when he was lying. "You don't think so. Why don't you think so? What's wrong then?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah. A vampire just kicked the crap out of you and nothing's wrong. Maybe we should just take you to the hospital, just in case."

"No," Giles said immediately. "I do not need a hospital. I'm bloody tired of hospitals..." He started to use the mausoleum wall to pull himself up, and when Buffy tried to help he wouldn't let her.

"Since when have you been in one often enough to care one way or the other?"

He didn't answer that. He was on his feet now but he didn't look very steady, and he still had that arm around his middle. Before she could stop him he took a few steps, but that was as far as he made it before he doubled over and caught himself on a headstone.

She hurried to his side again. "Whoa! Take it easy. Nevermind. Look, I just really think—"

"I'll be fine, Buffy. I promise you that I will go home, and I will rest, and I will be fine."

"But—"

"Buffy..."

"But something's _wrong_ with you! What if it's something serious? I-I mean what if that vampire really did break something or rupture something or whatever? That could be very, very bad, and I'd rather you not die or anything." Giles made an odd choking sound and looked away, and she stared at him strangely. "What?" He didn't answer her now, either. "Giles, _what_?"

"Must we do this now?" He sounded disturbingly shaky...pleading. It wasn't like Giles at all, and it scared her. She wanted to know what was going on, and she wanted to know _now_.

Buffy swallowed hard when he finally looked at her again, and the same plea that had been in his voice was on his face. _Leave it alone. Please drop it. Just drop it..._

She hated that she had to ignore it. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I'm sorry...but I think we have to."

She needed to hear that her overactive imagination was only that. She needed to hear that yeah, it was just a cracked rib or something and he was just being too British to admit it, or that sure, maybe he had a stomach ulcer or something from all the stress over the Mayor's ascension and so he was more affected by all the kicking than he would have been otherwise, but hey, was gonna be fine...

She needed to hear it before her imagination kept taking her places she didn't want to go. For example, maybe that vampire had been wearing steel-toed boots or something and everything in there was seriously squished and they only had moments before he started coughing up blood and collapsed—for good. That was one ridiculous thought she was having to shove away.

Being the Slayer had it's downsides. Knowing how fragile human life could be was one of them.

Giles wouldn't look at her, and he was quiet for a long time before he said anything else. "Then...we'll go back to my apartment, and call the others."

"The others? Why?"

He glanced at her now, and the pained look on his face made her freeze, and her breath caught in her throat, and she didn't know why. _What...?_

"Because I would rather not do this more than once," he answered quietly. He tried to head back for the car, but had hardly moved past the stone before he stopped, reached back and grabbed it again.

"Giles?"

He grimaced yet again. "Perhaps I could...use some help..." he admitted.

Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah...sure..." She took his arm, carefully pulled it over her shoulders, and took her Watcher home.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey ya'll! Thanks for waiting. I did a lot of working this week, so this came a bit slower than I'd planned, but anyway...here you go! I hope you'll like it; I can't wait to hear from you about it! Thanks so much for reading, and have a great week!

Chapter 2

January 2000

"Oh, really? To where then? I suppose you'll be sending his things along, is that it?"

Buffy stared at Ethan incredulously for a long moment, and then went for the apartment door. "I don't have time for this..."

He took a quick step after her. "Now hold on just a minute. Rupert's an old mate of mine, after all; you could at least give me an idea."

"Why, so you could pull some kind of stupid trick?" she shot back, still facing the door.

"Now I didn't say that—"

"But you'd do it."

"Well..."

Buffy spun on him. "He's not anywhere, Ethan. He's _gone_," she said angrily—though she didn't quite know if she was more angry at him or just...angry. Angry that it was over and there was nothing she could do about it.

Rayne blinked at her. "Wait, you mean...?" She didn't answer. "Oh. Well. Good god...what on earth took him out?" She just looked at him. She didn't know how to answer that. She didn't _want_ to answer that. It hurt.

If she had to answer that she might curl up and die.

"Demon? Vampire? Horrible traffic accident _caused_ by a demon or vampire? I'm only curious."

* * *

May 1999

Giles had been quiet since they left the cemetery, and Buffy didn't like it at all. She'd offered to drive—though for her that was a relative word—back to his apartment, and though he thanked her for the offer he quickly declined it and drove himself. He was a little better by the time they made it there, and he didn't really need her help to get inside, but she stayed right next to him anyway.

It was only once he was inside and on the couch that either of them realized they'd left his crossbow back at the cemetery. Giles asked her to call the others first and let them be on their way before she went back to get it. She had to go back to get it, because a crossbow was definitely not such a great thing to leave lying around for the public to find. She was hesitant to leave him, but she felt better knowing the others were coming, and going back for the crossbow meant something to keep her preoccupied. Willow and Xander and Oz would likely be at Giles's place by the time she made it back, and there would be no more waiting.

Buffy hated waiting. She particularly hated it now, when it was way too obvious that something wasn't right.

Xander was at the apartment when she got there again, and the report on the other two was that Oz had picked Willow up and they should arrive any minute. It was late now, and _all_ of them wanted to know just what the hell was going on with the summons this time of night. Buffy hadn't gone into detail on the phone—mostly because she didn't have any herself—but she'd told them all that something was weird, in an urgent way, and she and Giles wanted them here _now_.

She supposed that was pretty much the truth. Except, maybe, for the part about including Giles in wanting them here, because she wasn't so sure about that.

He didn't look very happy about any of this at all. He wasn't angry but he seemed...upset, and in a worrying way more than a scary way. Her imagination was running wild again, and she had to shut it down. There would be no more speculation...except maybe for the hopefully-not-insane hope that this was nothing. That everything would be fine.

Everything _had_ to be fine. Summer was here and they'd defeated the Mayor and with Angel out of the picture and Faith...whatever had happened there...Buffy didn't think she could take much more.

Giles sat silently on one end of the couch, lost in whatever thoughts were going on in there, until he got up and started pacing. It was slow and it didn't look painless, but he started to pace behind the couch, up and down its length, using it for support when he needed to. Xander hadn't been in the cemetery and he hadn't seen what happened but apparently he'd gotten the the message that this was serious, whatever it was. He hadn't said anything either and the room had been silent until Buffy spoke.

"What are you _doing_, Giles? Sit down. You're hurt."

"I'm all right," he insisted.

Xander's eyebrows went up as he jumped in on the exchange from his seat in the chair at Giles's desk. "Man...I'm no expert at anything, but _I _can tell. Last time I checked it wasn't a crime to take it easy when you need to."

Giles answered quickly, more hotly than usual. "I do not need to—" He cut off and winced, though Buffy didn't think it was all just in apology. "I'm sorry. I uhm...I'm sorry."

He wasn't looking at them, and she and Xander exchanged a silent, freaked-out glance.

"Don't worry about it..." Xander trailed.

That was when there was a knock on the door, and Xander got up and went to let Oz and Willow in.

"We're here," Oz said, closing the door behind them. "Where's the fire?"

"Or the yucky thing we have to fight," Willow added as a possibility. "What's going on?"

"That's what _I'd_ love to know," Buffy said tightly. "But I couldn't get anything out of Giles until the rest of you got here."

Willow looked at him and frowned. "Giles? What is she talking about?"

"Well he was out on patrol with Buffy, I guess, and he got hurt. I know that much," Xander filled in when no one spoke immediately.

She looked at Giles again. "Are you okay? You're standing up, but you don't look so okay..."

Giles let out a breath. "If we really must do this now, the rest of you may want to sit down," he suggested, resigned.

Xander and Willow and Oz exchanged glances, and moved around the couch to take seats in the sitting area. Xander took a chair and the other two took the couch, and Giles hovered in front of the other chair, near the kitchen entrance, but didn't sit. Buffy drifted up to the back of the couch, but didn't come around. She wasn't going to sit and she wanted that to be clear. She was too worried to sit down, and she didn't want to be bothered about it.

Her tactic worked; Giles looked her way and opened his mouth as if to protest, but then he shut it again, and didn't. He stood with his hands in his pockets, still hunched over a little thanks to the forming bruises, and he didn't seem to know what to say.

"What's going on?" Willow finally repeated, anxiously.

Now Giles swallowed, and he started slowly. "It's uhm...I'm afraid this has to do with me, as much as I wish it didn't. There is no...new enemy, as of the moment; it seems Sunnydale is quite safe at the moment, actually, at least relative to its usual state. Anyway I...I am sorry; I didn't want to burden any of you with this before I had to, but...it seems that I have no choice. I _was_ patrolling with Buffy tonight and there...was an incident. Buffy has insisted on an explanation."

"Well what else was I supposed to do, Giles? A couple of kicks from that vampire and you were down and out. You couldn't_ breathe _for a second there, and you couldn't walk three feet on your own an hour ago. Yes, I was going to worry."

"You misunderstand," he answered quickly. "You are perfectly within your rights to want an explanation, and I thank you for the concern. I hold no ill will against you for asking. It's only that I'd hoped to leave the lot of you to your respective summers. I didn't want...I..." He trailed off and looked away, and Buffy had never seen him at such a complete and total loss.

She stood rooted in place, staring at him, trying not to panic. She didn't know what she was thinking because she wouldn't let herself think. "Giles, what's wrong?"

The silence was thick from all of them, and Giles had to sit down before he could answer. He still wouldn't look at them as he pulled his glasses from his face and cleared his throat. Then he took a deep breath, but he coughed, and it was another moment before he said anything.

"It seems I've...developed stomach cancer."

Buffy's heart jumped into her throat, and her own stomach dropped to her shoes. "_What_?"

"Since when?" Willow questioned in shock. The boys only stared.

Giles shook his head as he slid his glasses back on. "I don't know. Unfortunately there were no symptoms until three or four months ago, and...I thought nothing of them. I didn't feel well, my appetite was gone, but I thought it was only the stress. I'd been fired from the council and shortly after that we discovered the threat of the mayor's ascension; I had good reason to believe that explanation. Though things have been much worse in the past, but...anyhow, I didn't have it seen about until it persisted..."

Willow was ramrod straight where she sat next to Oz, and Buffy could tell she was fighting the urge to shoot to her feet as she stammered. "W-well o-o-okay, but you're gonna be fine, right? They can treat it. They can make it go away."

Buffy didn't take it as a good sign when Giles grimaced. "Willow, it's...it's quite advanced. It's because it often shows no early symptoms that it's rarely caught in...in time." He let out an unsteady breath and finally really looked at them all, though it was clear he didn't want to be here telling them this. "By the time the tests were concluded last month it had spread to my lungs, as well," he said quietly. "I'm told that means—"

"No," Willow whimpered preemptively.

"It's really only a matter of how much time there is..."

From behind the couch Xander's face was the only other Buffy could see, and it crumpled at that. "Oh my god," he choked out.

Oz pulled Willow into his arms as she started to sob. "There isn't anything else...?" he asked. "I mean, this is you we're talking about. Us. We know stuff. We're not exactly normal. We usually have way more than the normal options for a lot of things."

Giles was only half listening as he got up and moved to Willow's other side, and Oz let her go so she could cling to Buffy's Watcher instead.

"I-I know. Since I've known...I've looked, but...I don't know. I don't believe so. That isn't what magic is for. I'm sorry..."

Xander was the one who _did_ stand, and he started to pace back forth in sharp, frustrated movements. "It's not your fault, Giles." He huffed miserably, pulling a hand through his hair. "God. Oh god..."

Oz was staring into the middle distance—which he was good at—trying to absorb Giles's answer, Willow's face was buried in Giles's sweater as she cried, Xander was about to lose it, and Giles looked up apologetically at his Slayer, who hadn't moved a muscle.

"Buffy..." he said, because he didn't seem to know what else to say.

She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath. "I can't do this," she gasped.

"Buffy—"

But she spun on her heel and fled, out of the apartment and across the courtyard of the apartment complex. She made it to the gate that led out into the parking lot and stopped, leaning heavily on the the wall there and heaving dry sobs that it took a long moment or two to control enough to stop them.

Buffy's imagination ran wild again, more active again tonight than it had probably been most of her life. It showed her what the next few months could look like, from what little she knew about cancer and how it took its victims, and none of it was good. She didn't want to see it.

So she decided that it wasn't going to happen.

_I'll fix it. Or...well I can't fix it, but I can find someone who can. Or someone or something that __knows how to find out how to fix it..._

"Buffy..."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she knew who it was. She meant to turn around and tell him that it would all be okay, but suddenly she was so angry that any of this was happening in the first place that she spun and took it out on him, instead.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she snapped.

Giles took a step back in surprise at her vehemence. He swallowed. "You and the others were already under enough pressure working to stop the mayor. It wouldn't have been right to put this on you as well; you didn't need anything else to worry about."

"That's an excuse and we both know it." He didn't say anything else. "You didn't want things to be weird. That's pretty much what you almost said back there, isn't it?"

He nodded a little. "Yes," he admitted.

"How long have you _really_ known?

"I didn't lie. It was last month when I knew for certain..."

"When last month?"

He winced. "The first week."

Buffy crossed her arms tightly. "Right. So you've known for at least a month and a half. Almost two. That means you knew, what, around the time I started hearing everybody's thoughts? Just after? It had to have been after, or I'm sure I would have heard it."

"Yes...just after," he sighed.

"So you've known since _then_ and you didn't say anything!"

"What on earth was I supposed to say, Buffy! Good lord, I...I was having enough trouble absorbing this on my own without forcing it onto the rest of you as well. I'm sorry. If it helps, I apologize. I'm sorry."

"It _doesn't_ help. You can't do this to me."

"Buffy—"

"You said you weren't going anywhere! You _said _it! You said it in front of that creep Quentin Travers and I _know_ you meant it! You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it!"

He blinked, and in the dim illumination from the coutryard's lights she couldn't tell for sure, but she thought he was blinking back tears. "I _did _mean it. But I hardly think I have much of a choice in this."

"You can fight it! We can...can find a way to fix it. We have to. I-I don't care that I'm eighteen, Giles," she choked. "It doesn't matter that I'm the Slayer, either. I'm just...I'm a kid. I'm a girl who's father is probably never coming back. He doesn't visit, or call...he doesn't care anymore. I know that now." She had to stop for a moment to keep from sobbing, and she looking briefly at the ground. "I can't lose you too," she whispered.

Giles reached up to squeeze her shoulder gently, probably because he was at a loss for words again, but Buffy shook his hand off. She couldn't do this. Not now. She was still trying to come terms with the fact that Angel was gone. She couldn't deal with this too. "No—"

She twisted back around and opened the gate in one motion, but she'd hardly taken two steps before she heard Giles coughing behind her. She looked back and he had the hand that had been on her shoulder braced on the wall she'd been leaning on a few moments ago. His head was bowed and his own shoulders were shaking even though the coughing had stopped.

"Giles..."

Buffy went back to him without a thought. He hissed in pain when she wrapped her arms around him and forgot to be gentle, but he didn't say anything. Instead he returned the embrace so tightly that it might have bothered her if she didn't have the strength and durability of a Slayer.

It told her what she needed to know—that Giles wasn't going anywhere without a fight.

"We'll figure it out," she said firmly. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise..."

* * *

January 2000

Buffy snapped back to the present, and her jaw clenched. _I let him down..._

"He got sick," she said quietly. She didn't want to say anything at all, but she knew she didn't really have a choice. She could have continued to evade Ethan's questions, but she knew he wouldn't really go away until she answered them.

"That's all?"

"That's what happened. And?"

"Well, Ripper just never seemed the type..."

"Shut the hell up," Buffy snapped back shakily. "It could have happened to anyone, and it happened, okay? Giles got sick. He got sick and...and he died. That's all. We did everything we could. He fought. He fought so _hard_, and—" She wasn't sure if she was talking to Ethan anymore. She had to stop abruptly to choke off a sob and swallow the lump in her throat. "And it's none of your business. Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to kill you anyway, human or not."

Then she pulled the door open, went inside, and slammed it behind her, leaving an open-mouthed Ethan Rayne in her wake. She sank back against it and let herself cry, just for a minute, quietly in case Ethan hadn't left right away.

_Giles, why? Why can't you be here?_ she thought miserably. It had only been two weeks since he died. The bed that they'd had to move downstairs in the last couple of months was still down here, in the main room, just stripped of linens now. She stared miserably across the apartment at it, at the place where her Watcher had taken his last breath.

Buffy was still pressed against the door when the voice bellowed in her mind.

**Is this what you wanted? Do you like this world? **

"Ah!" She cried out, doubling over from the pain in her head.

**Your future in this world will be what you wanted. Are you satisfied now?**

And it all came back—the rest of this year, and most of next year, and Dawn, and Glory, and her mother's death—and she knew she wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't right. Giles wasn't supposed to be dead. None of it should have happened. The last several months...all of it wrong.

All of it her fault.

"No..." she gasped. "No!"

**You did this. Does it make you happy?**

"NO!" Buffy screamed. "What the hell are you! What do you want!"

The voice was taunting, smug. **Only to give you your greatest desire. To give you your mother. YOU wanted this. **

"I didn't what THIS!"

**Your mother will live. You should thank me.**

"For making Giles suffer? You know that's not what I meant!"

**To save a life one must be taken.**

Oh god. Oh god, what had she done? She remembered the entity coming to her. She remembered knowing it had to be evil. It wasn't even a vengeance demon...or she didn't think so. It seemed much more powerful than that. It tricked her.

She never meant for anything to happen.

"No!" she shouted again. "Fix it! Put it back! This is wrong!"

**It is too late. You made your choice.**

"No I didn't! You can't do this!"

**It is done.**

"No," Buffy sobbed. "Oh god. Giles. Oh my god..." She remembered everything now. She remembered how useless he'd admitted to feeling this year—last year—freshman year—whatever...She remembered Dracula's appearance. She remembered asking Giles to be her Watcher again. She remembered being mortified when she'd heard from Willow later that before that Giles had been planning to go back to England...until she told him she needed him. She remembered the much stronger friendship they'd had after that. Then Joyce Summers had died, and...

She missed her mother. She'd missed her so much, but this was wrong.

"Change it back!" she shouted at the ceiling. She didn't know where the voice came from. She only knew she'd heard it.

But now it was silent.

"Come back! Where are you! You can't DO this!"

All of it was her fault—everything that had happened to Giles...the last several months in this world that had been a nightmare for all of them.

Buffy, spun, ripped the door open, and ran.

It was all her fault. And she remembered every moment of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Yikes. Sorry, ya'll. I was completely gone several days out of the last couple of weeks-at friends' houses and doing the church garage sale and working, etc etc. Here ya go though, and I hope ya'll are still liking it. Please do review if you are so I know you don't _completely _absolutely hate me for the wait this time. lol :P Can't wait to hear from you! Thanks so much!

Chapter 3

May 1999

When Giles and Buffy went inside again not much had changed. Willow sat hunched over on the couch with her head in her hands and Oz had an arm around her. Xander was still on his feet, but he wasn't moving anymore; he was the one staring into space now, though he snapped out of it as they they came in. He looked at Giles silently, his expression pleading for better news than they'd heard so far, and Rupert wished he had something better to tell them.

_We'll figure it out. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise..._

Buffy's words echoed in his mind, and he wished they could be true. He wished he could tell her she was right, that she could do whatever she wanted to be able to do...but that likely wasn't the case this time, and he knew it.

Giles moved around the couch and sat beside Willow again, and felt her lean into his shoulder when she sensed he was there. To his right Buffy sat tentatively on the arm of the couch beside him. None of them said a thing at first.

Willow was the one to pick up her head a bit, clear her throat once or twice, and speak.

"How long?" she managed finally.

He tried to think of the best way to answer that. Not that there was a good way.

"I don't know. There isn't any way to know for certain..."

"Cut the crap, Giles," Buffy huffed quietly.

Now they were all staring at him, waiting, wanting to know but not wanting to hear it. This was what he'd dreaded, all of this...having to tell them.

Rupert pulled in a short breath, and he wanted to be able to look at them but he couldn't. "Six months was the best estimate they could give me, most recently...as stereotypical as that may seem..."

Willow flinched beside him, Oz came as close as he ever did to making a face, and Buffy was deafeningly silent.

Xander stared again, open-mouthed this time, and dropped into his chair again. "But even if there isn't anything magical or whatever that can help, isn't there some kind of treatment that can do _something_? Everybody seems real big on the research these days. There's gotta be something."

"There _are_ a very few options, however...none of them offer anything resembling a solution," he answered slowly.

"Meaning what?" Willow asked weakly. He didn't know if she realized she'd done it, but she'd looped an arm around his and was holding on tightly. Where such a thing would have been awkward in the past, he found it comforting now.

Giles swallowed. "I uhm...I mean that treatment is an option, but there would be very little point at this stage."

"But it would give you more time," Xander assessed quickly. "Right? Wouldn't it? We'd have more time to find another way to fix this. Isn't that a good thing?"

He hesitated before answering. "In theory, perhaps, but the side effects..." He trailedd off; he was still struggling with all of this, especially where details were involved. "There is no way to know how_ much_ more time taking treatments would give, and I've already told you that the possibility of finding any sort of 'other' solution is minimal. If there is no other way..." He looked around, at all of them, at their faces, and knew they didn't want to hear this either.

But it had to be said.

"If there is no other remedy, I don't want to have spent what time I had left too sick to be able to say I was really here through any of it," he said quietly. "I want to live, not wait."

"I get that," Oz agreed. Willow turned to him sharply, but then she said nothing. She didn't seem to have an argument either.

Xander did. "You won't even try it?" he protested. "What if it could give us a few more months to work with and you don't do it and that extra month or two or three was what we needed to find a way to get rid of it? Huh?"

Giles winced. "I doubt that would be the case, Xander. I've looked. There are a few more sources, perhaps, but not many. If we haven't found anything soon..."

He didn't like it any more than the rest of them did. He hated this more than he'd ever hated anything, but he couldn't lie to them. He valued their trust, and he knew they would hate him more later for lying to them now than they might now for his telling the truth.

The boy got to his feet again, angry now. "Then what, you'll just lay down and die? Leave us here to deal with all the crap that goes on in this town?"

"Xander, shut up!" Buffy shouted.

"What! Don't tell me you're not pissed off; I _know_ you're pissed off."

"You'd better _believe_ I'm plenty damn angry but not _at Giles_. This isn't his fault," she shot back.

The two of them glared at each other for a moment, the other three looking back and forth between them, and finally Xander backed down and sat again. He looked away, but Giles could see the tears the boy was blinking back. His own eyes were stinging, and he had to take a deep breath before he could say anything.

That, however, resulted in a small fit of coughing that likely didn't help at all with the edge everyone seemed to be on.

"Giles?" Buffy asked.

Willow added, "You okay?" The arm around his tightened, and Rupert gave her hand a pat and tried smiling a little.

"I'm fine. Thank you." Then there was a hand on his shoulder that squeezed briefly, and he glanced back at Buffy. Neither of them said anything, but it seemed they didn't have to.

"I'm sorry," Xander said from his seat. "I didn't mean it like that, really. I just..."

"I understand," Giles said gently. He cleared his throat. "Please listen. I want you all to understand that by no means have I...'given up.' Nor do I plan to. However, I believe you deserve to know the facts, and...at the moment those, it seems, are the facts."

There was silence again, for nearly an unbearable amount of time before Willow spoke up again. "Well...how much of the research have you done? Where do we start?" Now she did stand, letting go of him and getting quickly to her feet as if she might grab an armload of books and begin flipping through them now.

"Any time other than tonight," he answered. "That is where we start. It's late, and I'm certain that all of you need your rest."

"We don't have school tomorrow," Xander protested. "We don't have school _ever_. Or _I_ don't, and that roadtrip is definitely history. Why _not_ start now?"

"You _do_ need sleep, regardless of your opinion on the matter, and if it's what you want to do you should take your trip or whatever exactly it is, Xander. You—"

"I don't want to," he cut in, quite seriously. "Not now."

Willow had not sat down again. "We just want to do what needs to be done," she said. "We want you to be okay, Giles."

He swallowed. "Now I-I don't want you all to get your hopes up if—"

"We'll find something," Buffy interrupted.

Rupert winced. "Buffy, I know what you said, and I much appreciate the sentiment..."

"What happened to you haven't given up and you don't plan to?" she questioned.

Giles let out a breath and rubbed at his temples. His head was beginning to pound, and he didn't have to move to feel the soreness in his midsection. "I meant that..."

"What?"

It was so hard to explain; even harder to say at all, knowing what it meant.

"I meant...that no matter _what_ happens, even if there _is_ no way to fix this, I...don't plan to simply 'give in.' I want to be here for all of you as long as I can. Though that was always my intent, to stay here as long as you might need me...even before-before this."

He heard Buffy swallow. "We know, Giles," she said quietly.

Rupert wondered if they _did_ know—if they knew how much they all meant to him.

He knew he had to make certain that they did.

* * *

By the time Buffy and the others left Giles's place, none of them were up for much conversation. She knew all of them would have felt much better just tearing into the books now, tonight, but she also knew that wouldn't have made much sense. It was incredibly late—she was relatively sure it would be tomorrow in a few minutes—and they would all do much better research with some decent sleep under their belt.

Now how any of them were going to get it was another matter.

Willow, it seemed, didn't plan to try.

"I'll go home and get online," she announced once they were all out on the sidewalk. "I can't sleep now. I—"

"Will, you should try," Buffy told her. "I _know_ this is...crazy, for lack of a sufficient word, but we should all try to get some sleep. We'll meet back here first thing tomorrow morning."

"Giles said he's already gone over everything he has in his apartment. We should meet at the storage unit." She meant the one where the moved books from the library had been put before they blew up much of Sunnydale High School to destroy the mayor in his demon form on graduation day.

"Right...fine. You guys meet there. I'll come by here first and let Giles know what we're doing."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Xander said, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "I'll bring the doughnuts." Buffy had to smile at him a little for that.

There was a moment of awkward standing around before Oz glanced between her and Xander. "Hey, I'm already bringing Willow home anyway; you two game for a ride?" he asked.

"Sure," Xander shrugged.

Buffy hesitated for a moment, thinking, and then shook her head. "No thanks. I'll be fine."

Willow moved forward to hug her. "Okay. See you in the morning. We'll all be there with our research caps on." The attempt at sounding casual, if not cheerful, helped a little, and Buffy was able to make it home.

The progress was immediately ruined when her mother jumped up from the living room couch the moment she stepped in the door. The television droned quietly in the background.

"Oh, Buffy, there you are. It's so late; did you eat dinner before you left?"

"Yes, Mom," she answered quickly, going for the stairs. She saw Joyce frowning just before she was too far up to see her from the corner of her eye anymore.

"Buffy? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she lied shortly. She swept into her room, shut the door harshly behind her, and went to her bed and dropped onto it. It all seemed to happen in one fluid movement, and she didn't move at all after that but to pull a pillow into her arms and curl around it.

Buffy didn't move all night. She meant to take her own advice, and rest, and she tried—but the next morning she felt stiff, and sore, and she couldn't remember whether or not she'd really slept at all. At first she didn't remember anything. She assumed it had been a hard night of slaying and she'd come home exhausted and fallen asleep on the bed before changing or even pulling her shoes off...

Then she remembered. She sat up abruptly, running over all of it in her head again, and suddenly she very nearly couldn't breathe.

It was all real. Giles was sick. He was in trouble...

No. They were going to fix this. In all of the hundreds, thousands...in all of the books Giles had from his home and from the library, there had to be_ something_ useful. Surely Giles couldn't just _know_ there was probably nothing to find. Surely he'd never in his life had the time to read every single volume. There had to be something, didn't there?

Buffy climbed out of bed slowly, but not uneagerly. She wanted to get to the storage unit and start looking through books. She'd never been keen on the research part of her job before, and usually left it to Giles and Willow and sometimes Xander or whoever else was around to do it, but now she had a better reason to do it herself. Now she felt as if she didn't get started as soon as possible she might hurt herself for not being in an active state of doing doing something about what was happening to her Watcher. She hated to think about it...the tiny cells in his body causing damage that she couldn't see and couldn't fix.

But she wasn't helpless yet. _They_ weren't. There were the books. There was magic. It would have to be good magic, or Giles would never let them do anything, but...it was there. It had to be.

She crept downstairs, hoping to avoid her mother, and then realized that it was a little later than she'd wanted it to be. Joyce would already be off at work. Buffy didn't feel hungry, really, but she knew she should eat because really she'd lied to her mother twice; she'd forgotten to eat anything before patrol the night before, so if she didn't have food now she might very well pass out on her way to meet the others. So she grabbed a couple of things from the kitchen that would be easy to carry and eat on the run, and started walking.

It took longer than usual for Giles to open his front door when she knocked, though when he got there she saw that he'd changed, and he looked much better than he had the night before. If she didn't know what was wrong with him she wouldn't have thought that anything was. Now though, she knew, and it helped her to see the dark circles beginning under his eyes and the tiredness in his gaze he tried to hide with a smile. She doubted he'd gotten any more sleep then the rest of them. There was an almost imperceptible hunch in the way he stood, too, and that of course would be thanks to the bruises from last nast.

"Buffy. This is a bit of a surprise."

"No it's not; you _knew_ we'd all be up early to get started. We're meeting at the storage place, since you said you'd looked through all the books here."

His eyebrows went up a little. "Right to the point then. Yes, I uhm, I've been through everything here twice over, and half of what there is there."

"Well hey, with all that down already we've gotta be close, right?"

Giles didn't answer, and Buffy cleared her throat. "Okay, I just wanted to let you know, I guess."

"Don't be ridiculous. Give me a moment and we'll both go; I only need my keys." He backtracked inside a step, and Buffy took a step in after him as he went to take his keys from his desk.

"Did you eat breakfast?" she asked suddenly. She wasn't sure why she did it; maybe it was just that she remembered nearly forgetting it herself or, though she didn't quite want to admit it, maybe it was her overprotective side kicking in already.

"What?"

Giles glanced back at her as if he hadn't quite understood, and she shrugged. "Nothing. I mean...I was just asking if you ate."

"Oh." He glanced toward the kitchen, and now she saw the remains of toast on the counter.

"Right," she said quickly. "Good. Toast is good. I had toast too, actually. I guess we're toast buddies today." Her Watcher looked at her strangely, and she shook her head. "Nevermind. Let's go." She turned back for the door and they left, and as they went she felt Giles's hand at her back, lightly. Suddenly she began searching her memory, wondering if it was something he did often. She realized it was. Whether he actually touched her or not—and usually he didn't—he was often there, just behind her, a firm but gentle hand ready to make the way clear if that was needed, or to offer the beginnings of protection...

Buffy's throat clenched tight as she saw how much the simple, gentlemanly gesture illustrated what Giles was to her, and how much she needed him. He was always there, ready to help her or to guide her whenever she needed him whether she wanted the assistance or not. They were a team, as a Watcher and Slayer were always meant to be, she thought, and more than that they were friends.

She couldn't lose him.

Giles opened the passenger-side door for her when they made it to his car, but Buffy hesitated before getting in, and she looked at him. He looked back. It wasn't her intention, exactly, but something passed between them then, and when she realized what she'd just told him she wasn't sorry—not until he looked away and swallowed, and she knew that he'd gotten the message, but it was hard for him. She felt awful then, but she wasn't going to take it back.

She was never going to accept this, even if in the end there was no way to stop what was happening to him, and he knew that now.

She was not going to let him go quietly.

They were both silent on the ride out to the storage place. Buffy didn't want to make it obvious that she was watching Giles, so she didn't. She looked out the window instead, watching his reflection in the glass and willing all of this to go away.

* * *

January 2000

It hadn't gone away. It all happened. Giles died. He was gone. It shouldn't have happened, and Buffy knew that now, but it did happen. It was over.

Ethan called after her as she sprinted away from Giles's place, and she barely registered the fact that that meant he hadn't left yet. A very, very small part of her wanted to turn and shout at him, to tell him to get gone immediately before she really did kill him, but she couldn't do it. She wanted too much to just run—to get away from anything that reminded her that this wasn't supposed to be real and it was her fault that it was.

What would the others say? Did they know now, too? Or was it just her? Oh god, what would _Giles_ say? Either Giles. The one she had just lost _or_ the equally inaccessible one she remembered from the future that he wouldn't have now...

Buffy stopped abruptly, and she realized she'd been running for much longer than she thought. There was shade here, which made it even colder, and her breath puffed visibly into the air around her head as she stared, frozen, at the silent gray tombstone of the grave that she hadn't been able to bring herself to visit since they'd buried Rupert Giles a week and a half ago.

Her throat closed off, and she had to spin and walk quickly away.


	4. Chapter 4

All right, here ya'll go. I had to get another chapter of the other story up, and now here's this one. I'm leaving for camp in the morning, and that'll be a week long, but I promise to write in a notebook at least, so I have _something_ to get typed up immediately when I get home. :) Anyway, this chapter is nice and long, and I hope ya'll like it. Please do review so I know you're still out there and not too mad at me for the wait last time...lol. Ya'll have a great week. Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 4

May 1999

The storage unit was climate controlled—at Giles's insistence, to protect the books—and it wasn't uncomfortable to sit around in all day but for the fact that there wasn't much room to breathe. They brought lawn chairs and doughnuts and someone usually went for pizza or Chinese at lunch, but that was where the Scooby Gang all but lived for almost a week and a half. They started on one side of the room and worked their way across, searching through any book that offered any chance at all of having a possible answer to their problem.

For days, nothing did. For days after that, still nothing. It had been nine days since they'd begun, and they were down to the last few books that held any promise. Hope was waning, but Buffy refused to give it up.

Willow slammed her book shut in frustration. "There's nothing here!"

"Calm down, Will; there's a few more over there." She pointed to the small stack by the wall that was the end of the line.

"No there aren't. I went through those while you went to get lunch earlier," she answered miserably.

Buffy looked up and blinked at her, and then looked at the stack of books. Sure enough, it was the same stack of books but they were in a different order now. "Then why didn't you move them?"

Willow winced a little. "I didn't want to move them." She set down the book she'd just finished perusing, and Buffy looked down and realized she only had a few pages left in hers. It was all a bunch of bull about how horrible one demon dimension or the other was, and it was useless. She looked hopefully to Xander, Oz, and Giles, but they were shaking their heads. They were done, too.

"There's nothing here," Willow repeated quietly, reluctantly.

Buffy swallowed. "S-so? These aren't all the books in the world."

"She has a point," Oz agreed.

"I have called everyone I know who is still speaking to me that might have known where an answer could be found. None of them had anything to offer," Giles said quietly. "I believe it's clear now that there is nothing to find. As I've told you all, this is simply not what magic is meant for."

"Not the kind of magic we're looking into…" Buffy ventured.

"No. Under no circumstances—"

"I _know_."

She let out a breath, and saw Xander looking back and forth between them helplessly. "So that's it?" he asked, obviously not wanting to hear the answer.

Giles nodded slowly and stood from his chair. "I'm afraid so. Of course it was worth looking, but I expected as much."

She knew he was talking like that on purpose, close to all business, so he wouldn't be thinking too much. He was trying to stay in control, but she could already tell he was shaken. Buffy realized, suddenly, that no matter what he'd said before he'd really hoped, too, that they could find a way to fix this. Now it was looking pretty certain that they wouldn't.

_No…_

Willow pulled herself to her feet, stumbling on the way, and went to hug Giles, already crying again for the first time since that horrible night nine days ago.

None of them had let themselves cry since then, as far as Buffy knew. They'd all hoped.

"No," she repeated weakly, aloud this time. She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced back at Xander, who hugged her from the side before joining Willow and Giles. Oz went to his girlfriend, and soon Buffy was the only one standing alone.

_All of that for nothing? This can't be it…_

But it was, wasn't it? Giles was sick, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. She felt as if she should be falling apart, but she only felt numb. Right now Giles looked like he was understanding just what this meant. He suddenly looked so much smaller than someone of his height should be allowed to, and he looked like he almost needed the human contact from the other three Scoobies just to keep him upright, no matter how strong he was trying to be.

Buffy wondered if _she _was really understanding this yet. Maybe she wasn't.

But she didn't want to. She didn't want it to be real. She wanted to cry because she hadn't really done it, not even the first night, but she couldn't. Or she wouldn't.

If she cried, it would make it all real.  
She went to the others because they needed her, and because she couldn't stand to see Giles looking like that and she wanted to be there for him.

But she didn't cry.

* * *

It was getting late, and the Scoobies needed to get home. Oz and Willow went together, and Giles took Buffy and Xander. His Slayer was the last to be dropped off, but when he pulled up in front of the Summers home she didn't move at first.

"Buffy?" he asked gently.

She wasn't looking at him. "I promised," was all she said.

His heart clenched, and his throat followed, and his lungs went with them. For a moment it was hard to breathe, and he didn't know if it had anything to do with the fact that he was sick or not. "I know you meant well, but I never planned to hold you to that. I knew it was more than likely that we would find nothing. I was prepared for that." He hesitated. "Or I thought I was," he added more quietly.

But it was hitting him all over again.

Buffy looked over her shoulder, not quite at him. "Giles, you're barely forty-five years old. This isn't supposed to happen," she choked out.

That didn't help, but he knew she didn't mean it that way. She was only trying to process this for herself, and he knew, too, that that wasn't something he could do for her. "I know."

"Are you scared?" There was concern behind the question, but as much as he didn't want to worry her any more than she already was, he still couldn't bring himself to fib to her.

"Yes," Giles admitted, a bit more unevenly than he'd planned.

She made a choking sound in the back of her throat, not exactly a sob, and twisted to wrap her arms around him for a long moment. He returned the embrace, but was surprised at how suddenly she pulled back to end it.

"I have to go," she said quickly. "I-I'll be over in the morning."

* * *

Rupert watched her go, and tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. He had only cried once, a few days after the diagnosis, when he'd done it alone, in his office at the school, one afternoon after Buffy and the other Scoobies had left. He'd realized that all of this meant he would likely have to leave them, and for a minute or two he'd cried quietly to himself. Since then he'd held it together, and despite what he'd told the children that first night he'd convinced himself that there was hope.

Now there wasn't, and swallowing wasn't helping tonight.

Now as he pulled away from Buffy's house, Giles was crying.

* * *

Willow couldn't cry anymore. Oz had come in with her, and now sat up against the head of her bed while she lay against his chest, shivering through the aftershocks of all the sobbing she'd broken into again as soon as they made it to her house and into her room. Her parents weren't here, of course. They were never here.

She dreaded the moment when he would have to get up to go home.

"This isn't right," she whispered. "How can this happen? Giles never did anything to deserve this...he's not supposed to die. H-he's supposed to be here to help Buffy and-and the rest of us.

"I don't know," Oz answered. "As far as I know stuff like this just happens. It's not anybody's fault. I agree that I really hate this but I don't really know what to do after that. I'm sorry..."

She shook her head without looking up at him. "Don't be sorry...I don't know, either." She sobbed dryly and snuggled in closer, and Oz wrapped his arms around her more tightly.

"Do you want me to just stay?" he asked quietly.

Willow nodded weakly. "Please?"

He kissed her forehead. "Okay."

* * *

Xander's parents were home, of course, but they barely took notice of him when he passed the living room on the way to his room—not that it would be his room much longer. High school was over and they were, for all practical purposes, kicking him out. They were going to let him live in the basement, but he was going to have to pay rent. To his parents.

God.

But that wasn't what had him angry as he stormed into his room and slammed the door, which of course didn't phase his quarreling parents in the slightest. He stood just inside the closed door, fists clenched, looking for something to pummel.

His backpack from school was still sitting by the door, dropped there after the last day and forgotten about since then. He didn't need any of those things anymore and they were the first to feel his wrath. Xander kicked the bag across the room, crossed to it to pick it up, and ripped it open. Everything spilled onto the floor and he caught what he could and tore at all of it, flinging something away now and then. Finally there was nothing left to destroy and he threw the bag itself out the window. If someone complained about it lying in the yard they could kiss his ass.

He stalked to the window, jerked it shut, and spun to kick at the pile of torn papers and notebooks and broken pencils in the middle of the floor. He missed, kicked the leg of his bed, and hopped backward as he shouted.

"Damnit!"

Xander tried and failed to stay upright, and landed heavily on his backside in the middle of the scattered trash in the floor. He shoved it all away with his hands and his good foot, and pulled the other foot to him to rub at the offended ankle. "Damnit..." he hissed again. He leaned back against the foot of his bed and sat there, not caring enough to get up.

It took a good while to realize he was sobbing and not only out of breath.

* * *

Buffy ran inside and shut the front door of the house behind her, leaning back into it once she had it shut. Her chest was heaving and she struggled to calm down. _No tears, no tears, no crying..._

"Buffy?"

She straightened quickly. "Mom. Hey." She tried to get by with that and head up the stairs, but she'd barely taken a step when Joyce planted herself at the base of the stairwell to prevent that.

"Oh no you don't. I want to know what's going on."

"What do you mean?"

Her mother crossed her arms. "You've been like this for days. You leave early, you come home late, you won't talk to me, and I can tell something's wrong. You look upset. I've been worried about you for more than a week, Buffy."

"I'm fine. It's nothing." It was so much more than just 'not nothing' but the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it. "I just graduated and all; end-of-school blues..."

"Since when is graduating high school a sad thing?"

She shrugged. "What, I can't be more mature than the rest of my generation? They're happy it's over and I know I'm gonna miss it. Is there something wrong with that?" Joyce was studying her closely, and Buffy ducked her head. "Mom, come on. I'm tired; let me upstairs."

"That isn't you either. I _knew_ something was wrong."

The Slayer winced. _One little mistake..._

"I'm fine," she repeated. Finally she managed to duck past her mother and head up. "I just want to sleep, okay?"

"Buffy Summers, you come back here right now!"

She stopped halfway up the steps, fists clenching, but she didn't turn around. "Mom, please! Leave it alone! It's nothing..."

"It isn't nothing when it makes me worry about you! I did what you asked; I left town for graduation and from what I've heard I should be glad I did, but if you want me to trust you you have to stop keeping things from me! Now what on earth has you so off balance?"

"Giles is dying!" Buffy spun around to look at her mother, and as Joyce stared back at her in shock the first tear fell.

There. She'd said it. She'd hardly even dared to think it before, and now she'd said it.

"He's sick. He has cancer."

"Oh my god. Buffy..."

But she went on, her voice quavering more by the moment as the pent-up tears streamed silently down her cheeks. "And I can't fix it. I can't help him; none of us can. We looked _everywhere_. I don't know what to do anymore...I've never felt so helpless in my life. I can't stop it. I-I...we're going to lose him, and I'm _scared_." She sobbed more than once. "Mom, I'm so scared."

She could barely see anymore for the tears, and really only heard Joyce as she hurried up the few steps to her daughter and pulled Buffy into her arms. It wasn't long before Buffy's knees buckled, and she sank to the steps under her and her mother came down with her, holding her. She cried there, cried brokenly, and she didn't know when she would ever be able to stop.

This was real.

* * *

January 2000

Buffy went home, because she didn't know where else to go—and because she suddenly had a burning desire to see her mother. The part of her that was now the Buffy of a now-ruined future hadn't seen her in weeks, because in that future Joyce Summers was gone.

That was what had started this whole mess.

"Mom?" She called out as soon as she was inside. The car was in the driveway; her mother should be here. But there was no answer. "Mom?" Buffy's gaze lingered on the stairs for a moment, bringing back memories she didn't want before she moved on into the house. "Mom!"

She glanced into the dining room, then went back the other way through the living room and ended up in the kitchen. Nothing. She ran upstairs, searched every room, and ran back down in less than a minute, she thought. Still nothing. She stopped in the kitchen again, very near panic.

"Mom!"

The basement door opened and she spun, almost expecting some monster or another to launch itself at her, but it was only her mother.

"Mom, thank god!" She all but tackled Joyce, who dropped what she had in her hands.

"Buffy!" Her daughter held on tightly for a long moment and she returned the embrace, but she was quite obviously more than a little thrown off. "Buffy, what on earth? Are you all right?"

Buffy pulled back and swiped at her eyes to stop the tears that had threatened her there when she'd been afraid she wouldn't find her mother. "I-I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just...with everything..."

Joyce let out a breath and bent to pick up the unopened jar of peanut butter she'd been bringing up from the basement. She set it on the counter and squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "I know, sweetheart. It's all right."

The Slayer blinked furiously, but the tears fell anyway, silently, as she looked at her mother.

"Buffy?" Joyce asked worriedly.

Buffy hugged her again, more gently this time but just as fervently. "Mom...I love you so much," she said quietly. "You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that." Her mother kissed her cheek and stroked her hair. "I love you too. Are you sure you're all right? I know how hard all of this has been on you and your friends; I miss him too..."

"I'm sure. Or...I don't know..." She pulled back again and sank shakily into one of the chairs at the kitchen island. Joyce sat beside her, studying her worriedly.

"Honey, what is it?"

Buffy thought for a long moment, not quite looking at her mother anymore. When she spoke she began slowly. "Mom...if...if you did something you knew was wrong, but no one else knew about it, and there was probably no way they ever would...would you still fix it? Even if what you did kind of made something a little better?"

Joyce looked at her in confusion, but she thought about it. "Well...I don't know exactly what you mean, but I guess I would have to. It would be the right thing to do, and I don't know that I could live with myself if I didn't." She paused. "What is this all about?"

She shook her head and leaned over in her seat to hug her mother again. "Nothing. Just...just remember that I love you, okay?"

"Of course," Joyce answered in bewilderment.

Buffy got up before she could talk herself out of leaving again, because if she stayed any longer she knew she wouldn't _want_ to leave. She would want to stay here, in this house, with her mom, and she would never do what she knew she had to do.

"Buffy?"

She stopped at the kitchen door and turned back, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Thanks, Mom."

And she left.

* * *

May 1999

When there was a knock on Giles's door late that night, well after he'd already dropped off the children, he didn't know who to expect.

He could decidedly say he hadn't expected Joyce Summers.

He blinked. "Joyce."

She swallowed before she spoke. "Mr. Giles. Rupert. I...I uhm..."

"Rupert is fine."

"Right..."

He let out a breath when he realized what was going on. "She told you."

She nodded. "I would have come sooner but I didn't know. She's been so upset for more than a week, but she wouldn't talk to me. Tonight she just...I-I don't know if I ever would have been able to calm her down. She just fell asleep. I was glad I'd already gotten her to the couch; I certainly can't carry her anymore." She winced and looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to worry you. She's fine now. I just...I know it's late, but I had to come..."

Giles nodded and stepped back from the door. "Please, come in."

She did, tentatively, and he shut the door. Much of any talking they'd done since the band candy incident had been done over the phone, and for a long moment they stood in awkward silence.

"You didn't have to come," he said finally. "I...must admit that I am glad you did, but if this is uncomfortable for you..."

"I'm all right."

He nodded in understanding. "I uhm..." Rupert searched helplessly for something else to say, and his gaze fell on the kettle on the stove. "I put on some tea, actually. It should be done in a moment, if you would like some."

Joyce hesitated, her hands twisting in front of her. "I don't know. I didn't mean to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that if there's anything I can do..."

He gave her a small smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it, but I...don't want to be a burden..."

"Oh god, please. You could never be that. I know I was angry when Buffy ran away, and I know what I said, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Really you've done so much for her, and I'm grateful. I am. I-I wouldn't have wanted this any more than she does." Joyce looked at the floor, but as she looked up again she moved in closer, and she hugged him. "I'm so sorry."

The tea kettle whistled in the kitchen, and she released him at the same moment he let go of her.

"Right. That's—"

"The tea," he finished, nodding quickly. He moved a little too quickly heading to the kitchen and had to stop for a moment. One hand went to his stomach as the other grabbed the couch. Though it wasn't so much the pain on the inside as it was the healing bruises, it hurt, and Joyce jumped forward to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Rupert? Are you all right?" She paused. "That seems like a ridiculous question..."

He shook his head and straight. "It isn't. Really. I'm fine. Or...well, I suppose you know what I mean."

She nodded a little, and her hand dropped from his shoulder. Her eyes went to the hand he suddenly realized he still had at his middle. "Is uhm...is that where it is? Buffy didn't get far enough to tell me..."

Giles nodded back, and shortly explained the rest.

"Oh god. No wonder she's so upset. She's right; there's nothing she can do, is there? Not even as the Slayer."

"No," he said quietly. "There isn't." He swallowed hard and went into the kitchen to get the tea. Joyce didn't follow him, and he took the moment or two alone to worry silently about his Slayer. He hoped she _did_ come here tomorrow as she'd said she would; he wanted to know she was all right.

When Rupert came back out into the living room with the tea Joyce was still standing uncertainly behind the couch, and he quickly invited her to come around and sit. She did, and he took the other end, setting the tray on the coffee table.

"Is there any way I can help?" Buffy's mother asked suddenly. "Anything at all?"

He started to shake his head, but then paused. "I don't believe so, but there is something I have been meaning to ask you—Willow and Xander and Oz's parents as well, though I'm not sure how to go about speaking with them."

"What do you mean? What is it?"

* * *

When Buffy woke the next morning she was on the couch, and slowly she remembered what had happened the night before. For a while she couldn't get up, paralyzed by reality.

Eventually she made it her feet and showered and dressed. She remembered what she'd told Giles before she got out of the car last night, and when she had asserted that her mother wasn't in the house—she must have left for the gallery already—Buffy headed toward her Watcher's apartment.

It took a little longer than usual for Giles to open the door when she knocked, and she nearly started to worry.

Then she saw it had only been because he had company. "Mom?"

Joyce stood from where she was seated on the couch. "Buffy." She looked at her watch. "Oh my god; is it morning already?"

"It's _nine _in the morning. What...?" She looked at Giles questioningly, but was blindsided by her mother when the elder Summers came around the couch to pull her daughter into her arms.

"Honey, are you all right? I was so worried about you last night."

Buffy swallowed. "I'm fine." She looked at them both. "What's going on?" she asked warily.

"We were talking," Joyce answered. "I came over here after you fell asleep last night. I meant to come right back, but I guess we lost track of time." She looked at Giles. "I'm sorry, Rupert; I probably shouldn't have kept you up."

"It's all right. You're at no more fault than I am, I'm afraid," he answered kindly.

She smiled back a little. "I should go. I wouldn't fire myself if I didn't show up for work today, but I should get a little sleep so I can go in later. We got a new shipment in last week and it still needs some unpacking."

"Of course. As I said, I appreciated the company..."

Buffy stared in confusion at her mother and her Watcher as they said goodbye. Joyce acted like she really wanted to hug him or something, but settled for giving his arm a squeeze on the way out when Giles opened the door again for her. When she was gone he closed it, and Buffy crossed her arms and eyed him.

"Explain?"

He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "You mother explained it quite accurately, actually. She came last night, I offered her tea, we talked...we've been there on the couch. We really did simply lose track of time." He yawned, and she realized now that he looked a little pale.

"You should have slept," she said gently. "You and Mom being all buddy-buddy I guess I can deal with, but I need you to take care of yourself."

"I'm fine, Buffy," he said patiently. He looked at her in concern. "Are _you_ all right?"

She grimaced. "I guess you heard about last night, huh?" He didn't answer. "Figures." Her voice dropped. "I'm fine."

Giles took an arm and led her to the couch to sit down. "I don't believe you are."

Buffy sat silently for a moment, wondering how to answer that. "I'm scared, too," she said finally.

"I understand."

"Do you? You're...you're not on my side of this. I mean...god, obviously _you're_ scared. _I _would be scared...but..." She trailed off, blinked back tears. "Giles, what am I supposed to do without you?"

She saw him take an unsteady breath. "Buffy, this isn't over, by any means. I will be here as long as I can. You know much of what you need to know, and there is still time to teach you—"

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

He looked at her for a long time, processing that, hopefully remembering what she'd told him that first night, and his head ducked. "Yes, I...I-I suppose I know that. I'm sorry, Buffy. I despise this...this situation. You know _that_."

"I know..." she whispered. They sat in silence for a while longer, until she spoke up again. "We're not gonna make it if we keep sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves, are we?" She stood up quickly and swiped at her eyes to be sure the tears were gone. "How are you feeling? If we're going to train we should train, if you're up to it."

"Of course," Giles agreed. "In a moment. I have something I want to ask you."

She looked down at him in confusion, wondering what on earth could be next. She wondered if she really wanted to know at all. "What?" she asked warily.

"It's all right, Buffy; please, sit down."

She did, slowly, and faced him again. "What is it?"

"It's uhm...it's something I discussed with your mother last night. She didn't seem adverse to the idea, and I thought I would see what you thought of it before I mentioned it to the others."

_Now_ she was confused. "What are you talking about?"

Giles fell quiet for a moment. "I...well, I want...I need to go back to England, Buffy..." He trailed off, and she had to swallowed compulsively when she realized what he meant. _One more time._

"R-right," she stammered, looking to her shoes.

"Not for long—a couple of weeks, perhaps, but...it is summer, and...I thought that you and others might like to accompany me."

Buffy looked up quickly. "Go with you? To England?"

"You and Willow and Xander and Oz—and your mother, possibly. She's said she isn't sure whether she could get away from her work for that long a period of time."

She wanted to, but there was definitely the issue of funding. "I don't know...I-I mean that would be great I guess, but—"

"I plan to take care of it," Giles added quickly. "I don't want to put any financial pressure on any of you. You needn't worry about it; after pulling two salaries for more than two years and living as I do it won't be any hardship. I uhm...I must to admit to being a bit selfish, really. I _would_ like to show you my home, all of you, but the idea originated from a desire not to leave the lot of you behind if I went," he said, smiling sheepishly. Or trying to.

Buffy was blinking again. He meant he didn't want to lose any time with them, and she understood that. She felt the same way. "Giles..." She went up on a knee on the couch to get closer so she could hug him more easily. When he returned the embrace she suddenly felt safe, no matter what was happening, and she realized he'd always given her that feeling—safety, security.

She bit back a sob. "I think it's a great idea."

* * *

January 2000

Buffy went back to the cemetery, willingly this time, if a little hesitantly. She knelt beside the stone, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it. She felt as if she did that, it would make it permanent.

"Giles, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'll fix it. I promise. I'll find a way."

She felt a shadow pass over her, and she didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"Good god, it's really here," Ethan said from behind her. "I have to admit I didn't really believe you until now."

"It _shouldn't_ be here," she answered. She got to her feet and faced him. He was staring at her in confusion.

"What?"

She didn't answer him right away. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you're still here."

He blinked. "And why is that?"

"I'm going to need your help."


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so there was camp, and then coming back and unpacking, and working, and a couple of friends over...so anyway, finally I had time to finish this. Sorry ya'll! I also apologize if the next chapter takes a bit of time, too. I need to research England a little more if I can, and if I don't have the time I'll have to do a lot more generalizing, but that should be okay seeing as the story there will be about the characters, not about England, so...anyway, I apologize ahead of time for anything I may get wrong. Again, focusing on characters here, so...

All right, again, sorry the waiting, but this story is, of course, harder to write. Half of the Scoobies' reactions and experiences in this situation are coming not only from trying to keep them in character and how I think they would react, but I'm also pulling a lot from personal experiences. Don't ask me why I still want to write this when I actually _have_ similar personal experiences, because I don't know. Maybe it's therapy. Without the exorbitant fees.

Okay, shutting up now. Ya'll aren't here to read me babbling. :P So I hope you like this chapter, and please do review so I know ya'll are still out there! It helps so much when you do. Thank you!

(NOTE: All information in mention of Diana Dormer is taken from the Buffyverse novel _Go Ask Malice _by Robert Jospeh Levy.)

Chapter 5

January 2000

"You're absolutely serious."

"Do you think I'd make something like this up?"

Ethan had made himself as comfortable as one could be on one of the wooden benches out at the edge of the cemetery, and Buffy paced nearby. She'd explained everything she knew, which unfortunately wasn't much beyond the fact that the timeline was screwed, and it was her fault.

"Hmm...no, I don't suppose you would." He smirked. "Quite a predicament, isn't it?"

She spun on him. "Quite a predicament? _Quite a predicament?_ Giles is _dead_ and that's all you have to say?"

"Well it wasn't _my_ fault."

"Shut up. I don't need that from you; I _know_ I screwed up, okay? I know it badly enough that I'm admitting it front of_ you_ and if you knew me any better you'd know that's saying something."

Ethan shrugged, nodded a bit. "I surmised that, actually."

Buffy's fists clenched at her sides. "Then could we get past the ridicule and get to the part where we do something?"

His eyebrows went up. "I never said I agreed to help."

She swallowed. "Ethan, Giles was your friend. Maybe that hasn't been true in a long time, but you don't want him dead. I know that much. If anything you'd rather him be around just so you can cause trouble, drive him crazy—whatever the hell you do, serving Chaos."

"Exactly. I serve Chaos. A muddled timeline is just the sort of thing I quite enjoy. I would have done it myself if I could have."

"You would have killed Giles?"

That gave him pause. "Well now, I—"

"I didn't think so."

"Now wait just a minute."

"No. I don't have time to wait. I have to fix this, but I have no idea where to start."

Ethan thought for a moment. "So...you're going to let your mother die, then?"

Buffy froze in place. "What?"

"That's what you'll be doing, if you do this."

"No. N-No, I'm just fixing the timeline. The way it is now is _wrong_."

"What's so wrong about it? Instead of one stuffy adult gone, it's a different one now. How much does that matter, really?"

Damnit, why did she tell him _all_ of it? "It...it matters. Whatever did this was evil. What if there's a reason it chose Giles? What if something happens in the future because he's not there and he was supposed to be? Or-or it could be lying. Mom might still..." What if it _was_ lying? What if Joyce died anyway?

"Ah. So an evil _time-traveling_ demon did this, and we have to stop it. Is that it?" he scoffed.

"No! I don't know. God you are so obnoxious; I can't believe Giles put up with you as long as he did."

"That's right; lash out at _me_ because _you_ can't come up with an idea that isn't ridiculous."

Buffy paced away from him, rubbing at her temples because now she had a headache coming on. "Fixing it is the right thing to do," she said quietly. But despite what Joyce had said, and what she knew to be true...she just wasn't sure. She wanted to be, but she wasn't.

"That, of course, is another reason I'm not inclined to be helpful."

Buffy wanted to argue further, but she was blinking back tears now. She didn't want Ethan to see that. "Fine," she ground out angrily. Then she stalked away.

* * *

May 1999

Oz stayed with Willow all night, just as he'd promised. In the morning they picked up Xander and went back to Giles's place, because it seemed the only thing to do. Xander didn't need any explanation when Willow called him to let him know they were on their way to get him. She told him that they were and he was on the curb waiting when they pulled up.

The drive was a silent one. That was why none of them expected what they found in the courtyard of the apartment complex when they arrived.

Buffy and Giles were outside, training...as if nothing were wrong.

Willow's mouth opened a little in surprise, and she saw the looks of confusion on the boys' faces. All three of them just watched for a few moments, but Watcher and Slayer never noticed them.

Finally Xander cleared his throat. "Hey guys. What's up?"

Buffy paused mid-step and twisted in the direction of the voice, then relaxed when she saw it was only her friends. "Training. Why?" The tacked-on question was almost a challenge, and if it was it wasn't one any of them were going to stand up to. Willow was the only one who came close.

"W-well, I mean..." She tried to glance at Giles without anyone noticing, just to make sure he looked all right, but she was sure they all saw her looking. "Nothing. I mean, training is good. Really good. It makes sure you're all up to snuff and safe and all, and everything..."

"Don't strain yourself, Will."

"Shut up, Xander," she said under her breath. She knew he was only trying to distract himself from what they were all feeling, but it was still annoying.

Buffy nodded and smiled some, giving Willow an understanding look across the courtyard. "Yeah." She glanced back at Giles, who was coming up beside her now. He didn't look_ bad_, just a little sweaty as he usually was after any decent amount of training with his Slayer, but Willow thought maybe he was a little pale, too.

"Are we done for today?" Buffy asked.

And Giles didn't act any differently than they had seen him act dozens of times, drawing himself up a bit in what was always a comical but ultimately fruitless effort to appear not-quite-macho. "I could go another round."

Buffy laughed once. "No, we're done; the guys are here, anyway. We don't want to bore them." It could have been any day in the library, except this wasn't the library. That, and Willow caught the crestfallen look on Giles's face that was only there for a split second—the one that told her he realized as much as she did that Buffy was finding an excuse to stop, because she was worried about him. He probably didn't want to be reminded of the reality here any more than the rest of them.

"So," Xander cut in. "We were just uh..."

"Bored," Oz offered.

"Yeah. Bored. We were bored, because it's summer and our high school careers are over, and we needed something to do. So we came here." He motioned to Buffy. "Looks like we weren't the first to have that idea."

Giles picked up a towel from the back of one of the chairs that were around the tables out here, and pulled his glasses off and dabbed at his face and neck. "I doubt you would be much less bored here, but you're all more than welcome to stay, of course."

Then they all stared at each other, silent for much longer than made Willow comfortable. They weren't speaking, but their thoughts were clear—maybe none of them had any idea what they were going to do, but they weren't going anywhere.

Not today, and probably not for a while.

* * *

Giles was the one who had to suggest that they walk into town. It was only a few blocks, but he had the feeling that none of them would have brought the idea to the table on their own—not now that they knew. They would have been too concerned that he might not be able to handle it, and he hoped there was time to put a halt to that mindset for a while, at least, before it became true, because it wasn't yet. He felt fine now, for the most part. Maybe _for the most part_ were the key words, but still...

They ended up at the Expresso Pump, where the girls bought frozen mochas and Oz and Xander went briefly across the street for snow cones. Xander called them a 'more manly' snack than the girls' treat of choice, but it was the two boys who looked more comically like children as the five of them sat around one of the tables at the coffee shop. The girls were holding back giggles, Rupert noticed, and Xander, of course, was giving them his don't-burst-my-bubble glare. Oz sat silently beside Willow with his snow cone, taking whatever would come like a _true_ man.

"You don't want anything?" Buffy asked him.

He didn't, but after no sleep maybe coffee would be a could idea. He could always go back home and sleep, but he didn't want to. He wanted to be here. So he got up and came back with coffee—the straight stuff, guaranteed to keep him awake until it was a relatively normal hour to go to bed. It wasn't any better for one's health than it had ever been, but he didn't really have to worry about that anymore, did he?

Giles didn't know he'd been making a face as he sat down again until he realized they were all looking at him.

"I'm all right," he assured them. "I do have some news though, since Buffy has approved the idea. There will be details to straighten out, but you might as well know." He noticed how the other three who didn't know what he was going to say stiffened a little at the mention of more news, and he resisted the urge to grimace visibly again.

"What kind of news?" Willow asked.

"Nothing to be alarmed about. I'll be going back to England for a couple of weeks or so in the near future—as soon as it can be arranged, really. I'm going to ask all of you if you would like to come with me. As I told Buffy, I plan to take care of the expenses. You need only come."

"Wow," Willow said. "That would be great..."

"Field trip, huh?" Xander observed. "I'm in. That is so much cooler than driving across my own boring country by myself."

Rupert chuckled. "Yes, well, first we must decide how to explain this to your parents. Buffy's mother has already agreed on her behalf, but the rest of you..."

They all sat in stumped silence on that one for a moment.

"Oh! Uhm..." Willow spoke up first. "In a rare moment of vague interest a few weeks ago Mom asked if I was going on any kind of senior trip or anything, and I told her I wasn't because...well, I wasn't. I could tell my parents I changed my mind. We could call it a senior trip. That could work."

Oz nodded. "Yeah. I should be able to swing the senior trip line. That shouldn't be a problem."

Xander only shrugged. "I can use that too, but I probably wouldn't need it," he said, disgust creeping into the edges of his voice. Giles frowned, uncomfortable and upset as he always was when mention came up of the boy's uncaring parents. He wasn't aloof to Willow's mention of her parents' general absence, either.

The children debated the ups and downs of the story for a few moments more, but he didn't hear them. It was only one of many things, but the fact that he wouldn't be here for Willow and Xander in the future, to care when their parents didn't...

For a moment he couldn't breathe.

"Giles?" Buffy's voice finally cut into his thoughts.

He glanced at her, and set his coffee on the table. "What?"

"What do you think? Senior trip sound good?"

He blinked once, letting his brain catch up, and then nodded. "Yes, of course. That sounds fine, if you're all agreed." He pushed out from the table and stood. "Excuse me."

He made his way to the bathroom, not daring to look back for fear they would see something he didn't want them to see. There was no one there so he stopped inside the door as it closed and rested against the wall for a moment. Sobs rose in his throat but he forced them down. He didn't go back to the table until he was sure he could show a straight face.

None of them said anything when he sat back down, and he couldn't tell just what they were thinking.

"So...if we're doing this, where are we going to stay?" Willow asked, concerned. "Wouldn't a hotel for all of us for that long be kind of crazy expensive?"

"I have a flat in Bath," he told them. "We can stay there. And, please realize that there will be times when I'm not with you. There are old friends I'll need to see. I won't leave you alone for too long, but—"

"Don't worry about it," Buffy said quickly. "We're all eighteen, Giles. I think we can take care of ourselves in a foreign country where people speak our language." Oz, who was nineteen, raised a hand slightly. "Okay, we're all eighteen and _over_. Whatever."

"I know that. I didn't mean it that way, of course."

"Well either way, I think this is gonna be great," Xander nodded confidently. "I mean hey, there are girls in England, right?" Giles skewered him with a look. "What?"

They walked back to his apartment, discussing the trip. Rupert was glad he'd brought it up now; it seemed to have put them in higher spirits. Willow, Xander, and Oz were already planning how to broach the subject with their parents when they got home, though Xander was doing most of the talking there. Buffy, quiet by the time they made it back, was the first to sit down at one of the tables outside, and the others followed suit. Giles did too. He didn't particularly feel like going inside either.

The conversation was as light as it could be, and slowly getting easier. After all, they'd done this before, hadn't they? Behaved normally in the face of disaster? They'd gotten back to okay after Angel lost his soul, after Jenny was killed, after Buffy ran from Sunnydale...

They were more than adept at it. He wondered if that was a good thing.

Rupert found himself lost in thought again, and when he came out of it he realized that Willow had wondered off. Xander and Oz were discussing something again, as seriously as those two could, and he quietly asked Buffy where the other girl had gone.

"She went inside to use the bathroom, I think, but now that I think about it she should have been out by now..." Buffy started to stand, but Giles put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Let me."

She raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

He nodded and she backed down, sinking into her chair again. She glanced worriedly at the apartment door, but stayed where she was and let him go in alone.

He didn't have to look far to find Willow. She was curled on the couch, sobbing, and he quickly crouched on the floor in front of the girl and reached out to her. "Willow...?"

It took a moment or two for her to notice him, but when she glanced up enough through the tears to see that it was him there she tried immediately to put a stop to the crying. "G-G-Giles. Oh g...god, I'm sorry. I didn't-didn't m-mean to do this he-ere again. I'm so sorry. Sorry. I...I-I..."

"Good lord, don't apologize."

"Why n-not?" She paused a moment or two, breathing heavily until she calmed down enough to speak clearly, and while she did he moved up to sit beside her. Then her head dropped against the back of the couch and she rested that way, drained. "I'm sorry. I wasn't gonna do that. I don't want to...I don't know. I don't even know why I _did_ do it. It's just that...that I think I can't cry anymore, _ever_, and then it starts all over again. I don't even know how many times last night..." She swallowed. "Oz had to stay with me the whole time. He just sat there."

Giles smiled. "I'm glad that you have him."

"Me too..." Then she finally focused on him again. "But, but but why am I _telling_ you all of this? I don't need to tell you this stuff. I-I'm just making things worse again, aren't I? God..." She started to get up but he held her back gently.

"Willow, please. It's all right. I want you to be able to talk to me." He winced. "Especially now, I suppose..."

She sobbed a bit and looked away. She sniffed for a moment, and dried her face. "S-so...England."

"Yes," he nodded. "I thought you in particular might enjoy that. Of course, in the past another reason for bringing Buffy, at least, would have been to visit the Council, but I doubt any of us would be welcome there now."

"Yeah...not so much, probably," Willow said quietly. "I'm still kind of curious though; do you think we could just drive by or something?"

"We'll see."

She nodded and fell silent, looking thoughtful. "England. I could have gone to college in England, you know."

"Yes, I remember your telling me you'd been accepted at Oxford," he smiled. It faded a little, but not completely. "I apologize if I didn't tell you then how proud I was."

Willow smiled. "I don't remember, exactly, but I think you mentioned something on the order of proudness. There was definitely a proud vibe. And hey, I know now." She paused. "Oxford was where you went, right? Would...would it have made you happier if I'd gone there?"

He shook his head. "It would have been quite a novelty, but I'm proud of you for making the decision to stay here, to help Buffy. And...and I'm that you'll be here, and not away at university when the new school year begins." Now he was the one looking away, and it was a moment before he could say what he wanted to say next. "I'm glad that you'll be here for her...when..." _When I can't._

He heard her swallow back a small sob, but she didn't cry anymore. Instead she hugged his arm for a long moment, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Right," she whispered finally.

Giles nodded a bit, and tried to smile as he looked down at her. "Well then...shall we go back outside with the others?"

Willow nodded too, and let go of him as she sat up. "Yeah. We should do that."

They went, and she seemed just as eager to get out of the apartment as he was. Maybe she and the others had already realized, too, that there would be more than enough time spent inside...later...

He shut the thought out. That would be then.

This was now.

* * *

The Scoobies stayed put most of the day. They called out for pizza when they grew hungry, though it couldn't quite be classified either lunch or dinner when they had it. It was too late for the first and too early for the second. The day hadn't had any direction, really, but for all of them to be together...though none of them, of course, were willing to really voice why they needed to do it _now_.

When an awkward silence began, someone jumped in with something. They all discovered that they had much more talk about than they had ever thought, and more to learn about each other than they had ever thought they wanted to know. Buffy was skeptical at first, and not sure why things went that way...but in the end it was kind of fun. She now knew a lot more about Willow and Xander's childhood shenanigans, and though Oz hadn't contributed nearly as much as the two of them and Buffy herself, he had probably talked more in the last couple of hours or so than in the entire time they had all known him.

"What about you, G-man?" Xander questioned eventually. "As Buffy oh-so-eloquently pointed out earlier, we're all at least eighteen now. I think we could handle some of the less-PG details of your sordid past."

"That does not in any way mean that you need know them," Giles answered tersely.

"Well _we've_ been the ones talking most of the time so far," Willow pointed out.

"And I've enjoyed it. Don't worry about _me_."

"But it's your turn. It doesn't have to be anything creepy; just tell us something we don't know."

Oz nodded gravely. "I've already related the age 9 backyard fire incident story. You have to give us something."

"Like what?" he asked, puzzled.

Buffy brightened with an idea. "First kiss! When was yours?"

"What? Honestly, this is not a gossip session..."

"Isn't it? Come on, Giles, fess up. Everyone here knows way too much about everyone else's personal life except yours."

"I would rather like to keep it that way," he protested.

Willow grinned a little. "If you're gonna be part of the group you're not allowed."

"Exactly," Buffy nodded. "Now spill." For one thing it was always fun to pick on Giles, and for another...maybe she wanted to know more about the man she'd relied on for the last three years. Maybe she wanted to ask questions before she couldn't anymore.

Giles let out a breath. "I'm afraid it isn't a very remarkable story..."

Xander sat forward eagerly. "And_ that_, my friends, is when it always gets good."

Giles glared at him, and Buffy had to suppress a giggle. "God, Xander, be good or he won't tell us _anything_."

"I never said I was going to in the first place."

"But-but that sounded like a lead in," Willow pleaded.

They all looked at him expectantly until he caved. He rolled his eyes a bit, but he continued. "I was fourteen. At that young age my parents wanted me focused on my studies, not fraternizing with the opposite sex. I was forced to uhm, sneak out, as you would put it, if I wanted to see anyone."

"Ah ha! So Giles was a bad boy even _before_ he became a rebellious youth," Xander grinned.

"I was not! In general I was a very obedient child...to a point. I merely had reason to...bend the rules, at times. Not that it was right."

"You were normal," Buffy assessed.

He blinked a bit. "Well, I suppose, actually."

"Right. Moving on then."

"What happened?" Willow asked eagerly. "Who was the girl?"

"Her name was Sarah, and I don't remember what her last name was before she was married. Anyhow, I doubt my parents would have approved even if they had known—she was sixteen and nearly two years older than I at the time, and we were young enough that such difference was discouraged, particularly when the female was the older. She was a Watcher in training as well, and she didn't like it any more than I did. I remember that she didn't live far away; we met in a small stand of trees at the edge of a field between our houses."

"Awww," Willow crooned. "Did you kiss her in the moonlight under the trees?"

"After entirely too much planning, yes," Giles admitted. "Surprisingly it was as perfect as a fourteen-year-old boy could have hoped. At the time the two of us were determined to run away together when we were old enough to make it on our own—escape the life neither of us wanted."

"Well what happened to her then?" Buffy asked.

Her Watcher smiled. "She turned seventeen, and found interest in a university student several years her senior."

"But they got married and he turned into a drunk and they had three horrible kids and got a divorce, right?" Xander predicted.

"They were married, but no, as far I'd heard before I left England they're still quite happy. Their oldest is about the same age as all of you. Despite the fact that she has never had care care of an active Slayer, she is still a highly respected Watcher to this day."

"Okay, that's just not fair..."

Buffy smiled. "How about the Faith's-first-Watcher-was-Giles's-almost-mommy story?"

Xander blinked. "Say _what_?" Willow and Oz, too, looked on with interest, and Giles looked at her quickly.

"How did _you_ know about that, Buffy?"

"Faith didn't like talking about her Watcher much at all because of what happened to her and all, which I completely understand, but in our friendlier days we did talk a little on patrol sometimes. That was one of the few things she ever told me."

Giles sighed. "I only met Diana Dormer a handful of times, seeing as there was quite obviously a bit of rivalry between her and my mother, but anyhow...I was quite upset to learn that she'd been killed."

Buffy looked back sympathetically. "I know. You looked it."

"Wait so...what?" Willow asked.

"Faith's Watcher in Boston," Giles filled in quietly. "Diana Dormer. She was an old friend of my father's...quite more than a friend, really. They were engaged at one time."

"Oh...that's so sad."

"I'm still getting over the 'weird' part," Xander put in.

Oz nodded. "Agreed. I liked the first kiss story though."

Willow snuggled into Oz's side. "Mine wasn't all extremely romantic or anything, but it was still perfect for me. Oz was there, so he knows."

"Same story here," Oz answered.

She sat up. "What do you mean?" He just looked at her. "But...I mean I wouldn't have minded, but I thought for sure with the band, and the groupies, and...all, that, you know, you would've at least, you know, kissed somebody or something..." Oz only smiled a little and shook his head, and Willow all but melted. "Oh! Wow, I...oh..."

Buffy couldn't help smiling, and she saw that Giles was in the same predicament. It was apparent already that there would be more conversations like this in the coming months. She was sure, now, that in fact there would be many.

She wished, suddenly, that they could go on forever like this. Then she was blinking back tears, because she knew they couldn't. But she forced them back and away, because it wasn't the time for them. For now they were all here, Giles was still here, and...she didn't want to think beyond now for a while.

* * *

When Oz drove everyone home late that afternoon, Willow convinced him not to stay with her and to go home and get the sleep he hadn't really gotten the night before. She herself got off at Buffy's house, and the two girls left Oz and Xander in the van wondering what to do now. Oz certainly didn't seem like he wanted to sleep yet, and Xander knew he didn't. Neither did he want to be alone like he had been last night, sitting in his room in a depressed stupor until he finally dropped off.

The girls seemed to be feeling the not-wanting-to-be-alone thing too, seeing as they were staying at Buffy's place together tonight.

So Xander climbed up into the front passenger's seat of the van that Willow had occupied before, and looked over at Oz. "So. Video games, my place?"

He didn't expect a positive on that one, not from Oz, but he might as well try.

Oz thought, of course, as he always did, and then nodded slowly.

"Sure."

* * *

January 2000

Buffy's mind reeled as she walked away, wondering what she was supposed to do. She couldn't do this alone, she realized. She would have to tell _someone_...maybe Willow? And...no, wait. No Tara yet, in this timeline. It was too early. Anyway, Will was probably her best chance of finding help puzzling this out. She didn't want to burden her with this, but...

Well with any luck none of them would remember this anyway, once the timeline was set right. After all, she only remembered the original one now because the demon or whatever had done this wanted her to. It _wanted_ to torment her.

It was doing a good job.

She was thinking hard enough that she didn't realize Ethan had followed her until he pulled up at her side, out of breath.

"Good god, slow down!" he puffed. "I asked you to wait a moment."

Buffy stopped short and glared at him, and he must not have been prepared for the sudden halt because he nearly toppled over trying to stop with her. As it was she had to shoot a hand out to steady him, but she quickly let go in disgust. "And I would listen to you _why_? What do you want now?"

He crossed his arms even as he was still trying to catch his breath and straighten up. "I said I wasn't _inclined_ to be helpful, not that I'd decided I wouldn't be."

"What, you want to help?"

He grimaced. "Not particularly, but I have nothing else to do at the moment. Be glad most of my plan for this little visit to Sunnyhell revolved much around Ripper; seeing as he isn't here, I am now incredibly bored." He scratched at the back of head uncomfortably. "I suppose the opportunity to bug the bloody hell out of him later is worth a _temporary_ alliance..."

Now Buffy crossed her arms, and stared him down. "You're serious?"

"As serious as you are, I suppose."

"Fine," she said again. "So what do we do? I assume we'd need to find out _exactly_ what it is that did this, first."

"Actually I was thinking more along the lines of making sure you're right first."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's still every chance that you're simply crazy."

"Thanks a lot for that. Would you like to be pummeled now?"

She pulled a fist back, and Ethan held up both hands and took a step away. "I'm only saying that it's in our best interest if we're sure we're not a on a wild goose chase. There_ is _a way to make sure the situation is what you think it is."

Buffy let the fist drop, slowly, but she still glared suspiciously. "How?"

Ethan relaxed a little, and shrugged. "Well, you see, if Rupert Giles was not supposed to die then his soul would have nowhere, specifically, to go. He would be left wondering the Ghost Roads, lost—at least until whenever it is he was_ supposed_ to die, anyhow."

Her breath caught when she thought of her Watcher stranded, homeless in the afterlife...and then she realized where Ethan was going with this. "You...you think we can talk to him?" she asked anxiously.

"Theoretically. The extremely tricky part, of course, would be tracking him down. The word 'lost' was invented for a reason."

She swallowed hard, and her thoughts raced until she realized she might have a solution. "It's okay...I think I know someone who can help."


	6. Chapter 6

So, Thanksgiving didn't allow as much time as I thought and I didn't get to update this story too, but I hope Christmas will be different. Please don't be too mad! I do what I can, I promise! Anyway, in thanks for waiting so long for this update this chapter begins to move the plot along more, and reveals a few things. I hope you'll enjoy it, and please do review if you're still around and let me know what you think! Thanks so much and Merry Christmas!

NOTE: I do not own Lucy Hanover. That would be Christopher Golden.

Chapter 6

May 1999

Buffy and Willow sat curled against the headboard of Buffy's bed. They'd gotten ready for bed early and watched TV, and eaten junk food because a tired Joyce Summers had gotten ready for bed early as well, but actually gone to sleep. She'd apologized more than once before she was off for not having something fixed for dinner, but the girls waved her off and sent her to bed.

Now they sat in silence. The idea had been to talk, but not much had been said. The sitting was all right though; they had been friends long enough that the silence was okay.

"So..." Willow finally trailed.

Buffy glanced up at her, and then shrugged and looked away. "My first instinct is still to run to Angel when it hits the fan like this...when _anything_ happens..." she began. "And I still can't. His body isn't being controlled by a psychotic, bloodthirsty demon this time, but he's gone just the same. It hurts so much, but I felt better knowing that I still had Giles—that he would always be here if I needed help, or...anything." She shrugged helplessly and tightened her arms around herself, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I felt safe knowing that at least _he_ wouldn't leave me."

Her friend swallowed. "What are you gonna do when...I-I mean...how will you train?"

"Alone," she answered simply. "I won't have another Watcher."

Willow nodded slowly. "Right...I kinda thought that."

"He'll teach me everything he can," Buffy said. It was hard to say it. It killed her to be having this conversation at all, but there it was.

"I know. I mean, of course he would."

They both fell silent for a moment or two, and then Buffy picked up the bowl of chips to set it between them again, and reached for the remote to her television. "I think there's a halfway decent movie coming on in a few minutes."

"Movie? Oh. Yes," Willow agreed. "I like movies. Movies are good."

* * *

January 2000

As much as she hated (not really) to do it, Buffy left Ethan waiting in the park before she could explain herself. It suddenly occurred to her that her friends would have been waiting outside the apartment for half an hour or more now, if they hadn't just given up and gone home. She suspected they had by now, but she had to check. She didn't really expect to find anyone there, but when she ran into the courtyard Willow and Xander were there.

They were sitting at the same table they had all been sitting at months ago, that first afternoon together after the day they'd realized they really couldn't save Giles.

"Hey, guys..." Buffy trailed as she approached the table.

They both looked up, but didn't move.

"Hey," Xander said.

"We were gettin' kinda worried," Willow added.

Buffy sat down across from them. "I'm sorry; something came up. I actually kind of have to get going again, but I didn't want to leave you guys sitting around here forever."

"What is it?" Willow asked.

"It's...nothing. It's hard to explain."

"Is everything okay?" She meant relatively. Everything was _not_ okay, and they all knew that, but she meant everything _else_.

"It's nothing you two need to worry about. It's kind of a me thing. It's just that it means I can't be here today." Buffy glanced toward the door of the apartment. "Do you want me to go ahead and let you in, or do you just, you know...wanna take break?"

Willow and Xander looked at each other, and then looked back to her.

"Uhm...break sounds fine," Xander agreed for them.

Willow was nodding. "I mean, we have plenty of time and all." The rent was paid up for the next couple of months. Giles had tried to do as much as he could beforehand...but even after that, he'd still thought it necessary to be absolutely certain they wouldn't feel rushed trying to get everything out of the apartment.

"Okay...yeah. Good. I uhm..." Buffy trailed off for a moment. "Actually, do you think maybe we could wait a few days on this? There are a few things I have to do."

They both looked at her strangely, but after the past few months they all knew by now not to question each other. They had all dealt with things differently, and dealing with it wasn't over. It was easier just to let things go and be there for each other, and leave it at that. She knew if she did anything to really worry them they would be all over her, and she wouldn't want anything less.

"Sure, I guess..." Willow began.

"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Maybe we do just need a break."

Buffy sighed. "Thank you. Look, I'm sorry to be so lacking of details, but..."

Willow reached out and touched her arm. "It's okay, Buffy. Just call us."

She swallowed and nodded. "I will. Thanks." When she stood up her friends stood too, and Xander smiled a little.

"Damnit; now I can't rag on Anya for bailing when you didn't show."

Buffy let out a small breath of laughter, and moved to hug them both. Then her friends went, and she was left in the courtyard alone. She looked at Giles's apartment door for a long moment before she could turn around and head back to the cemetery to find Ethan.

* * *

June 1999

The summer fell into an easy rhythm—or one that would have been easy under more normal circumstances. It was the first summer since Giles had arrived in Sunnydale that his Slayer had remained at home, and often it was easier to pretend that it wouldn't be the last summer he would see. He was under no illusions, and neither were Buffy and her friends, but it made it easier to enjoy the time that was there.

Usually most of the Scooby Gang was at his apartment more days out of the week than they weren't. Rupert knew that in the past it would have been bothersome after a while, but not now. Often enough they did have the courtesy to leave early enough that he could have some time to himself, and that was all he needed anymore.

He had been alone long enough. Now he was disappointed if one or more them happened not to come by on any given day—not that he said anything, of course. Buffy though...

Buffy never failed him. Every day she came, and he had no reason to doubt that she would continue to come. There had not been a day since she'd learned of his condition that he had not seen her, and without her needing to say anything he understood now that she planned to keep it that way. He would see her every day from now on...however long that happened to last.

That was why Giles was concerned one evening, two weeks after the last day he and the children had spent at the storage unit. He finally had everything squared away concerning the trip to England, and he'd planned to tell Buffy so whenever she arrived, but it was dark now and she had yet to appear. In fact, none of the Scoobies had come today. He'd gotten a call from Willow, and the young redhead had told him that she and Oz were going somewhere for the day, but Xander and Buffy were unaccounted for.

He called their homes, but no one answered at Buffy's and he only got a brief response from Xander's father about the boy being 'out, I think.' Rupert let Mr. Harrison know the particulars of the trip that he finally had, and quickly hung up. He didn't particularly enjoy speaking to the man any more than he imagined poor Xander must like having him for a father.

No one had answered at the Summers home, but it was certainly late enough for at least Joyce to be home unless she had chosen to work late. He knew that because he roughly knew, now, what time Buffy's mother usually left work. He knew that because Joyce stopped by on occasion—usually just late enough that Buffy had left for patrol and the others had gone their separate ways as well, but not late enough that it was strange. It was becoming easier and easier to talk to her, and Giles had to admit that he welcomed the company. As much as he appreciated having Buffy and others near so often, it _was _good to have someone else.

It made it easier to pretend that he _hadn't_ been alone for so long.

No one had answered at the Summers home. It was probably nothing, but...

He grabbed his coat and keys anyway.

* * *

Xander had to admit that this was one of the weirder nights of his life. For one thing, he was on patrol with Buffy. For another thing, she was one who had asked him to come with her.

His suspicion was that today had been one of the bad ones. There didn't have to be any particular reason for it—he knew it just happened, sometimes. Almost a month since they'd found out about Giles, almost two weeks since they realized they weren't going to be able to save the day this time...even in that time, he already knew how it was. Some days you were okay and living with it, or ignoring it, or at least pretending you were ignoring it, or pretending you were okay with it, or something like that. Some days you were less than okay. Some days you just weren't okay at all.

It was happening to all of them, and they weren't even the ones who were sick. Xander didn't even _wan_t to imagine what kind of hellish roller-coaster ride Giles himself was going through. He just knew he wanted to help any way he could—on the days he didn't want to pretend it was all a dream, anyway.

But back to Buffy, he was pretty sure this must have just been one of those bad days for her. It hadn't been such a great day for him, either, so he could sympathize. He hadn't been to Giles's place today, and he felt a little guilty about that like he usually did when he didn't go, but he didn't think Buffy had been either.

As far as he knew, that hadn't happened yet since this whole thing started, and that couldn't mean anything good. Then there was the fact that she'd felt crappy enough to want someone on patrol with her, maybe just someone to give a little bit of comfort simply in their presence. He knew she usually would have asked Willow, seeing as the budding witch could at least somewhat protect herself, but Willow was unavailable and Buffy had been desperate enough to ask _him_ if he wanted to come along. Not that she'd let any of the desperate show, of course, but he knew her.

According to Buffy, it was a moderate night for slaying—leaning toward the boring aside. She was two for two with the vamps, and at the moment they hadn't seen any for more than an hour. There had been a few awkward attempts at conversation earlier, but all was silent now save the crickets.

They were at the edge of what was probably the last cemetery, and sure enough Buffy slowed once they'd finished the second round of the place. Her stake went into a loop at her belt, and her arms crossed over her chest as she made her way to a stone bench and sank onto it. Xander followed quietly, and he sat beside her. The silence remained unbroken until he spoke.

"It's hard going over there every day, isn't it?" he asked gently.

Buffy jerked a bit, almost imperceptibly—perhaps surprised that he'd read her so easily, but she really shouldn't have been surprised.

She let out a breath and nodded.

"You're the only one of us brave enough to do it."

She grimaced. "I'm not brave. I just...I feel like it's something I have to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I'd be letting him down if I didn't. He needs us right now, and I guess I just want him to know I care." She glanced at him quickly. "Not that I think you guys don't for not being there_ every_ day, or anything. I mean, you do what you can and I know that, and I know he doesn't make anything of it. I'm just talking about me here—"

Xander smiled at her gently. "Easy, tiger. It's okay; I get it."

"Good. I'm sorry. Today was just—"

"Bad?"

She hesitated, looking at him for a long moment. "Yeah...I don't know where the hell it came from, either. I just woke up and it...it was just bad." Her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath. "Don't get me wrong, Xander; I'm_ glad_ I'm over there every day, but yeah...sometimes it's just really hard, and I know it's just beginning, and sometimes I just can't—I mean...god, I'm so tired of sounding pathetic. Already."

"You're not pathetic," he answered quietly. "I'm attempt-at-macho guy here and I get it."

Buffy's eyes opened and she looked at him thankfully before she looked away. "I'm going over there tonight—before it gets too late. I haven't been today," she admitted, as if he hadn't figured that out already.

Xander just nodded and put an arm around her shoulders, and for a while she let her head rest on one of his.

* * *

"Rupert?"

"Ah, yes. Hello, Joyce, I um...I'm sorry. I tried to call earlier and no one answered. I-I'm afraid in my line of work that isn't always as innocuous as it sounds, and I simply-simply—anyhow..."

"It's all right. Why don't you come in?" Giles accepted the invitation to step into the house, and Buffy's mother shut the door. "You've missed Buffy, if you were looking for her. I'm sure you were. She's been out for an hour or so. I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone; sometimes I end up entirely too absorbed in my cooking," Joyce apologized. She chuckled a bit, sheepishly.

"I see. Well, it's quite all right. I wanted to let you know the dates of our trip, at any rate. I would have relayed it through Buffy, but I haven't seen her today." He gave her the details, which were simple enough. The trip would last two weeks for the rest of them, but Joyce's return ticket was booked for just one week after their departure because it was all the time she could spare from the gallery. There was approximately a week or so before they were to leave.

"It all sounds reasonable to me; I suppose I can let Buffy know when she comes in," Joyce nodded. She paused then, and glanced back in the direction of the kitchen.

Rupert remembered that she had mentioned cooking earlier, and realized that perhaps she had been about to eat dinner before he'd knocked. "Thank you. I should be going then—"

"No, no, I..." She paused. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Well..."

She didn't wait for him to decide what he should answer to that.

"I was just about to. There's more than enough, if you'd like to stay and eat something."

"I don't want to impose—"

"Not at all. With just me and Buffy here it always takes forever to get through leftovers

and I know Buffy hates it. I'm sure she'd appreciate the help."

Giles chuckled now. "I suppose when you put it that way I have no choice."

* * *

Giles wasn't at home when she and Xander got there, and Buffy supposed he must have been on one of his recent late-night excursions to the Expresso Pump. It turned out that the night all of this had started wasn't the first time he had been there, and it hadn't been the last. Her Watcher had confided in her in that he liked to be there late, to think or read—to be alone without being quite alone. Apparently when she finally left for the day to head out on patrol that was often where he went.

She wondered briefly if that had anything to do with the guitar that had taken up residence in the dark corner by the front door, but immediately dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

Buffy and Xander parted company, and she went home dejected. She knew she had never said anything aloud of her plans not to miss a single day, but she felt as if she'd broken a promise just the same. It didn't feel good. However, she was cheered a bit by the aroma of a relatively fresh meal when she came in the back door, and she was in the process of getting a plate down to serve herself when she heard movement and laughing from the dining room.

"Mom?" The sounds came closer, and her mother rounded the corner with her companion close behind. "Giles?" What the hell was going on?

"Oh, Buffy, there you are," Joyce said. "We were waiting for you to come in but it was starting to get late."

Giles followed his hostess to the kitchen sink, where they both placed their dishes. "I'm sorry if we've startled you; this was rather unplanned."

"Rupert came by to let us know about the details for the trip he'd gotten hammered out; I guess I I didn't hear the phone when he tried to call."

Buffy blinked. "Oh. Ok." She was still a little thrown-off.

"I suppose it could have waited, but I hadn't heard from you today, and I uhm, well..."

"I know. That's why I finished up patrol early and went to see you, but you weren't home."

Giles sighed. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No, it's ok. I just wanted you to know." She looked at him for a moment, and when he smiled it seemed he understood what she meant. She hadn't forgotten about him, and now he knew that. There was no broken promise anymore.

Joyce, oblivious, added, "If anyone should be blamed for any mix-up it's me; I'm the one who asked him to stay for dinner when he dropped by."

"It's fine, Mom; that's great." She shrugged. "I guess you two had a good time then?"

"Your mother is quite the cook," Giles commented.

Buffy grinned a little now. "Don't I know it." Then there wasn't anything else to say, really. She'd picked up the fact that her mother had been by Giles's place more than once in the past couple of weeks, and as much as she'd said she was ok with it this whole new friendly thing between the two of them was still taking some getting used to. "So uhm...what were those details?"

He told her as Joyce moved to start washing the dishes. "The others all know by now as well, so I suppose we're set, as it were."

"Perfect."

It _was_ late, so it was then time for the Summers women to show their guest to the door. It was different than the last time all three of them had been at a door like this. There was still some awkwardness, but this time it was because Buffy was there—not because Joyce was there. Buffy had the distinct feeling that if she had not returned home when she did this parting would have gone differently. This time Giles hugged both of them briefly, and though there was hesitation when he and Joyce embraced Buffy could tell that it might not have been that way if she weren't there.

A lot had happened in two weeks. They were much closer now than the last time she had seen them together, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. When Giles was gone and the door was closed Buffy looked at her mother for a long moment, but she couldn't decide what to say.

Finally Joyce took notice of her daughter's stare, and looked at her quizzically. "What?"

Buffy shook her head, snapping herself out if it. "Nothing. I don't know. It's just..." She stole a glance at the locked front door. "That was..."

"That was nothing," her mother assured her. "He was here, there was food, and he hadn't eaten dinner. Is there anything else you'd like to know, detective?"

Buffy let out a breath and smiled in amusement. "No...no. Sorry. Ignore me."

"You have nothing to worry about; now go get something to eat yourself."

She went, telling herself to listen to her mother. There was nothing to worry about. After all, Joyce and Giles were adults. They were smart; they knew how to keep things in perspective. They knew what was going on, and...well, they just did. Right?

Buffy glanced back, and her mother was staring wistfully out the front windows.

* * *

January 2000

There were candles on the small table between them, though Buffy had no idea as to the meaning of their layout. She knew what needed to be done, and it was Ethan who had set up the summoning ritual. Of all the times Willow had done such things she still wouldn't have known where to begin. Needless to say, she hated having to admit to being grateful for his help.

Ethan finished lighting the candles, and sat opposite her. The table was in his motel room in the bad side of town—which, true to Cordelia's words, was not far from the good side of town.

"Now what was the name of this girl?" he asked.

"We're trying to contact Lucy Hanover; a guide on the Ghost Roads. She was a Slayer during the Civil War, and she's helped us a lot in the past. If anyone can find Giles, she can. She might even be able to help us find a way to fix this."

"Then let's find out, shall we?" He reached across the table around the candles, offering his hands. Buffy just stared at him. "If you've done this before you know there must be a circle, love, and there are only two of us. Come on."

He wasn't lying. She remembered the hand-holding part, at least, from the last time the Scoobies had summoned Lucy. Buffy huffed and took his hands, and Ethan began the incantation.

He had barely finished before the candles sparked and the desired spirit took form above them.

Now that she could, Buffy quickly let go of Ethan's hands. "Lucy, thank god! I didn't know if you'd come with him here, but I didn't really have a choice; I needed help..."

The spirit held up a hand for silence. "_Under other circumstances that might have been the case, but I too had little choice. If you had not summoned me I would have contacted you myself before much more time had passed. Something is very wrong_."

Buffy swallowed. "I know."

"_A soul is here that should not be—has passed on before its time_."

She nodded. "I know that too. What I don't know is what made it happen or why. I was kind of hoping you might be able to help with that."

Lucy shook her head slowly, her nearly translucent blueish locks shimmering about her head. "_If you know that something is wrong, then you know nearly as much as I. However, there is another here that may know more_."

"Who?" Buffy asked impatiently.

"_There will be time for that. There is someone else I am certain you would want to speak with first. He found me quickly after his arrival, and I have kept him safe since_." As she spoke another form took shape beside her, and she smiled a bit. "_I will be nearby_." Then she faded out of sight.

Buffy stood up slowly. "Giles," she gulped.

Her Watcher smiled down at her, and he was no longer the tired shell she remembered from recent weeks, before he'd left them. He appeared healthy and vibrant again, only lacking the usual colors thanks to the being-a-ghost part. "_Hello, Buffy_."

"Hello, Ripper."

Giles spun on Ethan and glowered. "_What are 'you' doing here_?"

"Just lending a hand. Good god man, look at the mess you've gotten yourself into. I've got to give you credit, Slayer—you're apparently not mad."

"_Oh, do shut up_."

"Please do," Buffy agreed. "Thanks for the help, but could you give us a minute?"

"This is _my_ motel room!"

"Take a walk!" Slayer and Watcher shot back immediately. Ethan snorted, but surprisingly enough he got up and he went. It wasn't until the door was shut again and he was out of sight that Buffy sank back into her chair and let out a sob.

"_Buffy..._"

"I'm so sorry," she cried. "All of this is my fault. I—"

"_It is not your fault_."

"But..." She frowned. "Wait, do you even know what I'm talking about?"

Giles nodded. "_I'm afraid I do. Somehow being on the other side has...given me access to the other memories—from the original timeline. Just as you seem to be the only one among the living, as far as I know I am the only one on this side to be directly aware of the mix-up and in possession of such mixed memories. But I do remember everything both ways. It's quite strange, actually_."

Buffy stared at him, and it took a while to process that this wasn't only the Giles she had lost in this timeline, but the one she had left behind in the old one.

"Oh my god. I thought I was going to have to explain it all...but you know?"

"_I do_."

It was both a relief and a blow at the same time. "Oh my god," she repeated. Somehow it only made her cry harder. "Then...then you know what happened. Y-you know how it was. You know what I did. _Mom_ died. It wasn't supposed to be you. _It wasn't supposed to be you..._" She couldn't look at him anymore, and her hands gripped the edges of the chair as she sobbed.

"_Buffy, listen to me_." She sensed something near her, and when she looked up Giles had leaned down to eye level. "_Listen. You did not know what would happen, and this is not your fault. Do I look angry_?"

"You look like a ghost," she whispered. "But you should be alive right now."

Giles winced. "_Yes, well...about that..._"

"_STOP_!"

The third voice startled them both, and when they looked up a new spirit manifested itself over the circle of candles on the table.

"_Look, I really wanted to give you two a minute, I promise, but if this goes on I know what'll happen_." The ghost was girl of no more than sixteen or seventeen, sporting longish wavy hair and modern clothing, and now she pointed at Giles. "_You'll try to tell her that's it's better this way because she has her mother. She'll protest. You'll keep on with it, and in the end, after a lot of really touching yelling at each other, in true Lifetime movie fashion you'll convince her to drop it all and let you go, because it's what's 'best for her' or something like that. You leave, life goes on, and we're all screwed. I'm sorry, but I can't let that happen_."

"_I beg your pardon_?" Giles gaped.

Buffy glared at the newcomer. "Who in the hell are you?"

The girl looked at her, expression softening. "_Autumn. I'm the Slayer who succeeded you_."

"_That's not possible_."

"_Of course it is. Time travel is actually much easier through the Ghost Roads_."

"_But getting onto the Ghost Roads when one is not dead is another thing entirely_."

Autumn grimaced. "_I am dead, thank you very much_."

Both Buffy and Giles were silent for a moment.

"_I'm terribly sorry_," Giles said finally.

Buffy let out a breath. "Okay...so you're the Slayer who came after me." She resisted the urge to ask how long she'd lasted. It wasn't something she needed to know. "Then why are you here?"

"_It was me Lucy was talking about_. _I'm here because I know what did this. The first time around no one told you, and you never found out_." She nodded at Giles. "_You listened to him, and you didn't do anything about it. Life went on from here, and one knew what had orchestrated the switch until three years before I was killed. That was when you died, Buffy, and it's when I was called_.

"_How old are you_?" Giles asked.

She glanced at him. "_I was seventeen when I died. I was only fourteen when I was called_."

"_Good Lord—why so young_?" he mussed to himself.

"_There weren't many potentials to choose from. They'd been killing us off slowly, quietly, for more than a decade, and it had been all-out war for years. That's how screwed-up my future is; it's why I'm here to fix it_."

"Who was killing off potentials?" Buffy asked. "I don't get it."

"_Her army_."

"Whose army?" But she had a horrible feeling that she knew the answer already, and from the look on Giles's face he was feeling the same thing.

Autumn looked at her for a moment before answering. Then she sighed. "_It wasn't a demon who tricked you, Buffy. It wasn't a demon who caused all of this. It was Glory_."


End file.
